


presque vu

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: (sort of?), (sort of????), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: "Presque vu is the tip of the tongue phenomenon, in which you know that you know something, but can't quite recall it."Meeting again, for the first time.(pairings/characters added with each new chapter)
Relationships: Adaire Ducarte/Adelaide Tristé, Adaire Ducarte/Adelaide Tristé/Hella Varal, Adaire Ducarte/Hella Varal, Adelaide Tristé/Hella Varal, Benjamin/Blue J (Friends at the Table), Emmanuel/Fero Feritas, Emmanuel/Fero Feritas/Lem King, Ephrim/Throndir (Friends at the Table), Fero Feritas/Lem King, Hadrian & Hella Varal, Hadrian/Rosana (Friends at the Table), Red Jack/Throndir (Friends at the Table), Rosana & Hella Varal, Samot/Samothes (Friends at the Table)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 55





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie, for looking this over, and to all my mutuals on twitter dot com who've put up with weeks of vaugetweeting about this fic

Fero had been walking for a while. The reason didn’t matter, or it doesn’t, when he retells the story to Emmanuel, much later - only that he was running away from home for a hundred different reasons and that he was really hoping the running away would stick this time, because he was sick of going back - when he saw the light of the diner in the distance, the flickering purple neon sign calling him closer in the darkness.

_ Olday Diner _ , read the sign,  _ Open 24 Hours _ .

True to the sign, the lights were on. True to it being midnight in the middle of nowhere, the place looked empty.

A bell chimed as Fero opened the door. The diner was still, music coming from somewhere behind the counter. A guitar solo, the melody of it soft and rolling. Fero frowned. The song sounded familiar, or maybe it reminded him of something in a dream.

“Hello?”

The music stopped.

“I’m comin’,” said a voice from what Fero assumed was the kitchen.

Fero hopped up on one of the bar stools that lined the counter, shoe tapping against the footrest and sending dust from the highway onto the spotless linoleum floor. He looked around the diner, taking note of the equally spotless tables, the walls crowded with paintings and pictures, a display by a lone pinball machine stack with faded brochures and flyers. 

A man pushed aside the curtain doorway, carrying a large jug of what looked like lemonade. He paused when he saw Fero, the flicker of surprise fading quickly into a smile. Probably surprised to see a customer, Fero figured. It didn’t look like that was a usual occurrence.

“Hi,” said Fero, “the sign says you’re open?”

The man nodded. “Twenty four hours a day. What can I get you?”

“Uh,” said Fero, thinking about his almost-empty wallet.

The man’s expression shifted a little, the smile becoming warmer. “You’re in luck by the way, everything after midnight’s half price.”

“Well in  _ that _ case,” said Fero.

He ended up getting a grilled cheese sandwich and pie, both of which were much better than Fero expected them to be. It must have shown on his face because the man huffed a laugh, sliding a glass of lemonade across the counter.

“On the house,” said the man, “in exchange for the company. Don’t get much of it, this time of night.”

“I guess not,” said Fero.

“Not many people this way, since they put the new highway in,” continued the man. “What brings you out this way?”

Fero shrugged. “Just traveling, I guess.”

“To where?”

“Find out when I get there,” said Fero.

The man laughed, moving to wipe down the counter.

Fero looked around the diner again as he drank the lemonade. The wall behind the counter was mainly taken up by a long menu, partially obscured by an old guitar and a ‘for sale’ sign.

“What’s for sale?” said Fero, nodding to the sign behind the counter. 

The man gestured to the room around them. “This place.”

“For real?” said Fero, “How much?”

“How much you got?”

Fero made a show of patting down his pockets. “Twenty bucks?”

“Sold,” said the man.

Fero laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not likely to get a better offer,” said the man, “and I’m getting too old to be in this business.”

“Hey, come on,” said Fero, “You don’t look a day over a hundred!”

The man laughed. “I’m glad you kept your sense of humor.”

“What?”

“From being on the road,” said the man.

Something niggled at the back of Fero’s mind, something almost-familiar, but he pushed it aside. He would definitely have remembered seeing this guy before.

The man opened a drawer under the counter pulling out a piece of paper. It took Fero a moment to figure out what he was looking at: the deed to the diner.

“Wait, you’re  _ serious _ ?” said Fero, “You don’t even know my  _ name _ and you’re going to just  _ give _ me this place?”

“Sell it to you,” said the man, “it’ll cost you the twenty bucks. And you seem like the trustworthy type.”

“No I don’t!”

The man laughed. “No, I suppose not. But I trust you anyway.”

“And this isn’t some weird trick?” said Fero.

“Strange kind of trick,” said the man.

“Well you seem pretty strange,” said Fero.

The man laughed, and Fero grinned. He looked down, scanning over the words. The deed was old, the typewriter lettering faded and smudged.

_ Olday Diner, property of Samol  _ [a word too smudged for Fero to read] _ , is on this date signed over to _ [and then a blank space, presumably for his name].

“So,” said the man. Samol, Fero assumed.

Fero let out a breath. “I- you know what? Sure. I mean, why  _ couldn’t _ I run a diner?”

Samol handed him a pen. “I’m certain you could.”

Fero looked up at him. He was smiling down at Fero, and there was a warmth, a surety in it, that made Fero’s throat ache sharply.

“Hey,” said Fero, before he thought to long on the feeling, “are you, you know… okay?”

There was a flicker of surprise again in Samol’s face, like there had been when Fero had entered the diner.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” said Samol, “I’m about to have my first vacation in several millennia.”

Fero laughed, and signed the deed.

Samol showed him around the diner - from the kitchen, to the little back garden Samol had managed to keep alive in the desert heat, to the upstairs rooms where he lived. By the time Fero fell into bed, the sun was just beginning to poke over the horizon.

His sleep was filled with a series of strange dreams: dragons and orcs and very tall people who he was very mad at but loved anyway, and a man who looked just like Samol, who he loved and wasn’t mad at at all.

When he woke up he didn’t remember the dreams at all, and Samol was gone. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Fero worked there alone for what he would describe later as “a while”. Time seemed to move weirdly, long stretches of quiet punctuated by lost tourists and truck drivers looking for a break from the highway. 

Fero was happy enough, happier than he’d been back in Rosemerrow, certainly. He moved the chairs and tables around in different configurations, he kept things clean, he managed to keep the garden alive almost as well as Samol had. The only thing he wasn’t great at, it turned out, was cooking

Some things turned out okay. Toast, for example, was something he could do. Throwing a salad together was fine, and he could assemble a sandwich alright. But anything that had to be cooked was just as likely to get sent back as it was to be eaten, and even the people who actually ate it didn’t look like they were having anything approaching a good time.

“I’m sorry,” said a soft voice behind Fero, “but these truly are the worst eggs I have ever had.”

Fero turned around, scowling and absolutely ready to yell the person into oblivion, but the man in front of him didn’t look like the usual kind of person demanding a refund or threatening to give him zero stars on Yelp. He looked almost apologetic.

“I try not to be picky about these things,” continued the man, before Fero could speak, “being a chef I know I notice things more than someone else would, but these are just… you’ve somehow made them runny  _ and _ dry.”

“So eat the runny and dry parts together,” said Fero.

“I did try that,” said the man, “I wouldn’t recommend the experience.”

When people sent back to food they yelled, and Fero yelled right back. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with someone who sounded like they were apologising to him.

“Wait,” said Fero, “what’s your name?”

“Uh. Emmanuel?”

“Uh huh,” said Fero, “And you said you were a chef?”

“I, uh. Yes?”

“Okay,” said Fero, “so why don’t you come back here and make it yourself Emmanuel?”

Emmanuel stepped backwards. “Oh, no-”

“No, listen,” said Fero, “if you’re a chef you can probably cook it, right? I mean, it’s not like I have any other orders, so you’re not going to be bothering anyone.”

He waved a hand around the otherwise empty diner. Emmanuel glanced behind him, then huffed a laugh.

“Well, I suppose, I- yes, alright.”

Fero led him into the kitchen. Emmanuel certainly seemed to know what he was doing, moving around the kitchen as easily as if he had been there for years, tension leaving his shoulders as he stood before the stove.

“So, for this, the real trick is to stir  _ constantly _ ,” said Emmanuel, “and you don’t season the eggs until the end…”

Fero watched, leaning on the counter next to the stove. It certainly  _ smelled _ better than the scrambled eggs he’d made.

“There, you see?” said Emmanuel, taking a bite, “Much nicer.”

Fero took the fork from his hand, trying some himself. “Oh, yeah, this is  _ way  _ better.”

Emmanuel smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “I’ll teach you how to do it.”

“Why don’t you just do it instead?” said Fero.

Emmanuel paused. “Are you… offering me a job?”

“I guess,” said Fero, “I mean, I could probably learn to do this  _ okay _ , but it’s never going to be  _ this _ good.”

Emmanuel smiled. “Well, I… that’s very nice of you to say-”

“But…?”

“But this is…” Emmanuel huffed a laugh. “We have just met. I do not even know your name.”

“Well my name is Fero,” said Fero, “And I’m sure if you worked here we could figure out the rest. I mean, obviously if you have a job already that’s fine, but-”

“No, I don’t I- The last place I was, I had to leave… quickly,” said Emmanuel, “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated is okay,” said Fero.

“I… I don’t know.” Emmanuel sighed, looking around the kitchen for a moment. “I do like the space here, it reminds of-” He frowned. “Something. Somewhere I used to work, I think. My first job, perhaps.”

“Does that mean you’ll work here?” said Fero.

“I- yes,” said Emmanuel, after a pause, “Yes, just until I- there are some things I need to figure out.”

“Hey man, take all the time you need,” said Fero, “kitchen’s all yours.”

“Really?”

Fero laughed. “I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing in it, so this seems like a way better idea.” He took another bite of the scrambled eggs. “Oh, yeah, a  _ way _ better idea.”

Emmanuel laughed.

  
  


\--

  
  


Time went by in its own strange way, the way it has since Fero had started working at the Olday Diner. They still didn’t get many customers, but Emmanuel didn’t seem to mind any more than Fero had, changing the menu here and there. The only real difference was that now when people complained about the food, Fero yelled even louder. If they didn’t like Emmanuel’s cooking they were  _ obviously _ liars.

Sometimes the days were quiet, leaving them to putter around the small, quiet spaces of the diner. Emmanuel took the time to try out a new dish or two, and Fero helped with the washing up in return. Emmanuel wasn’t much for talking, but he did talk Fero through whatever he was making, his voice holding a confidence that it didn’t otherwise have. Fero nodded, listening to what Emmanuel was saying, but mostly listening to the tone, his eyes caught on the way Emmanuel grinned to himself as a dish came together.

Sometimes Fero would wake early in the morning, earlier than even he normally woke, and he’d take a mug of tea out to the back steps to drink it as the sun slowly rose over the horizon with Emmanuel, their breath fogging the cold desert air. He felt like they were waiting for something, but the only thing that happened was that their mugs of tea emptied and the sun got higher. Their hands touched as they set their mugs down between them, the lightest brush of fingertips, making Fero’s heart stutter in his chest.

In a way, that felt like waiting for something too.

  
  


\--

  
  


“You own this place, right?”

Fero looked up, surveying the woman in front of him critically. She’d arrived half an hour earlier, ordered black coffee and the house special pie, eating in small, precise bites as she tapped away on a laptop. She’d eaten the whole slice, and didn’t seem especially angry, so she probably wasn’t about to complain, but Fero still felt a hesitance.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I thought so. My name is Adaire DuCarte, I have just… claimed ownership of the motel next door, and I wanted to propose something, a deal of sorts.”

“I kind of thought that place was like, broken down,” said Fero.

Adaire waved a hand. “A spot of paint, a few fixes here or there and it’ll be ready to go in no time. The point is, I have a business proposal for you that could be mutually beneficial. We do share a parking lot, after all.”

“Okay,” said Fero slowly, “what would I have to do?”

“Not a thing,” said Adaire smoothly, “we would just have an… arrangement.”

“A… what?”

“It’s simple,” said Adaire, “I have a coupon in my establishment that would give people half-off breakfast if they stayed at the motel, and you would have one here that says you get complimentary cable at the motel if you eat here.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” said Adaire.

“I mean, they’re not likely to go anywhere else,” said Fero, “we’re the only two places for like a hundred miles.”

“But we might not always be the only option,” said Adaire, “This way, we’re one step ahead of the game.” She paused. “Look, are you in or not?”

“I- sure, whatever,” said Fero, “If you give me the coupon I’ll put them wherever.”

“Next to the cash register,” said Adaire.

Fero waved a hand. “Fine, okay, next to the cash register.”

Adaire smiled. “Thank you.” She stood up to leave, pausing at the door. “And my compliments to the chef. If they’re ever thinking of changing jobs, tell them to let me know.”

Fero scowled at the closed down, tapping his fingers on the counter. He heard Emmanuel push back the curtain behind him, stepping beside him.

“Another satisfied customer.” Emmanuel paused, turning towards Fero. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Fero, “she said compliments to the chef and to hit her up when you get sick of working here.”

“I think if I were sick of working here I would just leave, not start working next door.”

Something twisted in the pit of Fero’s stomach. He looked down, fiddling with the assortment of pens in the glass by the cash register.

“Yeah,” said Fero, “Yeah, I bet. I mean, you’re a pretty good cook, you don’t want to be stuck out here forever.”

“I’m not stuck out here.”

Fero snorted. “Yeah, because it must be great to be in the middle of nowhere with me.”

He bit his lip, feeling his cheeks flush. He hadn’t meant to add that last part.

“Fero,” said Emmanuel slowly, “I do not feel stuck here with you. I am here because I choose to be here. I  _ like _ it here.” He paused, taking half a step closer. “I like  _ you _ .”

Fero looked up sharply. Emmanuel reached out, lightly touching Fero’s hand where it lay on the counter. Fero swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between Emmanuel’s hand and his face.

“If it is that I am stuck here,” said Emmanuel quietly, “then I do not know if I would ever wish to become unstuck.”

“I-” said Fero, “That’s- if you weren’t happy here, you’d go though, right?”

Emmanuel smiled. “I am very happy here. I have my own kitchen.”

Fero laughed. “I guess so.”

“Are you-” Emmanuel took a breath. “Fero, are  _ you _ happy?”

Fero blinked. “I- yeah, obviously. I have this place, I have the garden, I have...”

“Me,” said Emmanuel.

“I was going to say your cooking.”

“No,” said Emmanuel, “you weren’t.”

“No,” said Fero, after a moment, “I guess I wasn’t.”

Fero looked up at Emmanuel, letting out a breath as Emmanuel leaned towards him. He met Emmanuel half way, reaching up to rest a hand on Emmanuel’s shoulder as Emmanuel deepened the kiss.

Fero gasped a little into his mouth, his fingers curling in the fabric of Emmanuel’s shirt. Fero pressed Emmanuel backwards until he bumped into the cupboards behind them. Emmanuel huffed a laugh against his lips.

“Perhaps we should close for the day,” murmured Emmanuel.

“We’ll hear the bell,” said Fero.

“But perhaps-  _ oh _ -” said Emmanuel, voice catching as Fero began to kiss down his neck. “We should- upstairs-”

“Yes,” said Fero, “Definitely, absolutely, yes.”

Emmanuel laughed.

It took them a little while to make it, distracted by the newness of kissing each other, of touching, of the sensation of Fero’s hand sliding under Emmanuel’s shirt, of Emmanuel’s body against his. They stumbled their way into Fero’s room, the bed squeaking as they flopped down on it. He felt Emmanuel smile against his lips, warmth spreading through his chest at the sensation.

Fero was quick to pull at Emmanuel’s shirt, tugging it over his head, as eager to map the planes of Emmanuel’s body as Emmanuel was to keep tugging him up to kiss, distracting Fero from his task.

He gasped as he felt Emmanuel’s hands cup him over the fabric of his pants, the sudden friction making his hips arch up. Emmanuel hummed into his mouth, unfastening Fero’s pants and sliding a hand inside. Fero watched, slack jawed, his eyes fluttering closed as Emmanuel’s fingers teased over him. He clutched at Emmanuel’s shoulder, biting his lip to quiet a whine.

Emmanuel tilted Fero’s head towards him with his free hand, swallowing the sound as he slid a finger inside him. Fero clutched at Emmanuel’s shoulder, clumsily rolling his hips towards Emmanuel’s hand, the trickling heat in his gut building.

He could feel Emmanuel against him and he shifted, sliding a leg in-between Emmanuel’s grinning as Emmanuel moaned. He nipped at Emmanuel’s lip and was rewarded by Emmanuel leaning forward to kiss deeply him again, their bodies falling into a rhythm with one another.

Fero could feel himself getting close. He slid a hand down Emmanuel’s chest, fumbling at the buttons on his pants before he tugged them open to take Emmanuel’s length in hand. Emmanuel groaned, dropping his forehead to rest on Fero’s shoulder. Fero redoubled his efforts, feeling himself on the knife edge as Emmanuel worked him.

There was something, one of them shifted, a slight change of angle and Fero gasped, his mind going fuzzy for a moment. He breathed, toes curling as he sought the sensation again and again, until he was tipping over the edge, falling into the heat of it.

Dimly, he felt Emmanuel shift, moaning close to him before he stilled, relaxing back into the bed. Fero’s body followed his, blanketing Emmanuel’s as they together in silence for a moment.

Fero opened his mouth, then closed it again, pressing his lips together.

Emmanuel smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, then his lips, softly, the warmth of it seeming into Fero’s bones. He wriggled, settling more next to Emmanuel than on top of him, tilting his head towards Emmanuel so he could keep kissing him all the while.

“So, you see,” said Emmanuel softly, “I am quite happy to stay.”

Fero felt his face flush, pressing his face into the crook of Emmanuel’s neck for a moment.

“Well  _ good _ ,” said Fero, “I can’t go back to trying to cook things myself, it’ll be a disaster.”

“Perhaps we could get you an assistant,” said Emmanuel, “to follow you around and make sure you’re following the recipe.”

“You don’t use recipes.”

“I do,” said Emmanuel, “you just don’t see them because I have them memorised.”

Fero blinked up at him, trying to work out if he were joking or not. “Maybe I should get  _ you _ an assistant.”

Emmanuel hummed, drawing Fero in close. “Well. I suppose we will see if one turns up.”

  
  


\--

  
  


One did, in a round-about way.

Lem King stumbled into the diner on a dusty afternoon, extremely sunburnt and clutching a battered violin case and a backpack with a broken strap. He stared at the list of pies for fifteen minutes and then ordered a single glass of lemonade, paying for it entirely in pennies.

It was at this point that Emmanuel took pity on him, sending out a meal on the obviously fake pretext that he’d made someone else’s order wrong.

“There’s no one else out there,” said Fero.

“As though you weren’t about to do that same thing,” said Emmanuel.

“Well, that’s- no I wasn’t,” said Fero.

Emmanuel kissed the top of Fero’s head and pushed the plate of food into his hands.

“That’s cheating!” said Fero.

Emmanuel smiled. “Perhaps.”

Fero took the tray out, setting it in front of Lem.

“Oh,” said Lem, looking pained, “But I can’t- I mean, this looks lovely, but I don’t, uh-”

“The chef made someone’s order wrong,” said Fero, “I thought better to give it to you than chuck it out.”

Lem looked over his shoulder at the empty diner. “But…”

“Look, do you want it or not?” said Fero.

“I do, yes, thank you,” said Lem, “And thank the chef, too, it looks lovely.”

Fero nodded, stepping away to wipe down the bench. He glanced back up at Lem. There was something… like seeing someone in the bit part of a movie and knowing you’d seen them in a tv show. Familiar.

Lem’s gaze flicked towards him and their eyes met.

"Do I…” Fero frowned. “Have we met before?”

Lem flinched. "No, what, why? I mean, no. No."

“Would I have seen you in something maybe?”

“No, I- well, I suppose I have played a few places, you know,” he held up the violin case, “but not, ah, not anywhere big, not out this way, I mean.”

Fero hummed. There's something,  _ something _ , but also… nothing. He squinted up at Lem, taking in his thin wire-rimmed glasses and high cheekbones.

"Yeah, I guess I'd remember you?"

Lem blinked. "What? Why?"

"Uh." Fero could feel the blush prickle on his cheeks. "Because of your- weird glasses!" He turned away, busying himself with straightening a pile of napkins. "No offence."

“None taken, I suppose.” Lem swallowed, gesturing to the wall behind the counter. "Whose is that?"

Fero turned to look at what Lem was pointing at - an old guitar, still slung up on the wall, mainly for decoration and because he'd never really been sure where else to put it. 

"No one's," said Fero, "used to belong to the guy that this place used to belong to, I guess."

Lem frowned. "I used to have a guitar like that."

"Like  _ this _ ?"

Fero looked up at the guitar, with its swirling pattern carved into it, different types of wood inlaid into one another, the way parts of it were worn away from use.

"I… maybe?" said Lem. 

"I thought you played the violin."

Lem blinked, his face losing the far-off expression it had held a moment ago. "A person can play more than one instrument."

"Yeah but can  _ you _ ?"

Lem huffed. “Yes, if the situation calls for it. Can you?”

“Nope.”

“Seems a waste,” said Lem, his eyes drifting back to the guitar, “to have something like that and not play it.”

Fero shrugged.

Emmanuel stepped through the curtain, smiling as he saw Lem.

“Ah, it is good to see that my food has not gone to waste.”

“You made this?” said Lem, “It’s- wow, it’s  _ fantastic _ !”

Emmanuel smiled. “Well, thank you.”

Lem lingered through the day, sending longing looks at the motel sign next door as the sun began to set. Fero thought again about the handful of pennies Lem had counted out to pay for the lemonade. He shot Emmanuel a look. Emmanuel raised his eyebrows at Fero, tilting his head towards in the direction of the stairs. Fero shrugged.

“I do not know if it perhaps too forward of me to say, and there is the motel next door, or course,” said Emmanuel, “but we do have a room upstairs, if you need a place to stay.”

Lem looked down, fiddling with the knife and fork on his empty plate. “Oh, I, uh, don’t- that is, I’m a little short on funds, and I-”

“We could use an extra hand,” said Fero, “If you’re interested. Kitchen work, nothing fancy.”

Lem’s head shot up. “Really?”

Emmanuel smiled at Fero. Fero steadfastly pretended not to see it.  _ Emmanuel _ needed an assistant in the kitchen, this was him being nice to Emmanuel  _ only _ .

“Sure,” said Fero, “you work here, you can stay here.”

Emmanuel insisted on giving Lem a tour of the kitchen, which Lem dutifully nodded his way through. Fero scowled at the pots and pans, but otherwise said nothing until the three of them trailed upstairs to bed.

“This one’s my room,” said Fero, “so you can sleep in that one. Goodnight.”

Lem hesitated in the doorway. Fero glanced back at Emmanuel, who was still standing with Lem.

"So," said Lem, "where do you sleep?"

Emmanuel gestured to the door. 

Lem frowned. "I thought that was Fero’s room."

Emmanuel pressed his lips together for a moment, suppressing a laugh. "It is."

"Oh, so do you guys share a room or- oh."

Emmanuel laughed, not unkindly. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s- obviously, that’s fine, I mean, I’m, um, I’m also- so this is my room?” said Lem, his voice getting progressively higher. “Well, goodnight!”

Fero stepped towards Emmanuel as Emmanuel closed the door behind him. Emmanuel kissed him, finally, like a dam breaking and Fero clung to the front of his apron, holding him close.

“You do not have to be jealous,” said Emmauel quietly, smiling.

Fero would scowl if he could have stopped grinning. “I’m not!”

“It is okay,” said Emmanuel, “I am a little jealous of you too.”

Before Fero could ask what he meant, Emmanuel was kissing him again, and that seemed entirely preferable to talking.

  
  


\--

  
  


So, Lem stayed. He helped in the kitchen and was sometimes a waiter and was moderately terrible at both. Fero let him stay anyway, because he made Emmanuel smile, even when he burnt some tomatoes so badly it set off the fire alarm.

It was easy for Fero to understand why Lem stay. It was obvious every time he looked at Emmanuel why he stayed.

Fero kept that part mostly to himself, half jealous and half something else that he didn’t want to look at too closely. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Lem was usually a late sleeper unless one of them woke him up, and so it was a surprise to Fero to find him sitting on the back steps early one morning. Lem startled, standing hurriedly.

Fero waved a hand. “I was- it’s fine. You want a cup of tea? I’m having a cup of tea.”

Lem blinked. “I- yes, that would be. Thank you.”

He moved to follow Fero, but Fero waved him off.

“Last time you almost set the place on fire,” said Fero, “I’ll do it.”

“That was  _ coffee _ ,” said Lem, “I can make  _ tea _ .”

Still, he sat back down and was still sitting there when Fero returned. Their fingers brushed as Fero handed him the mug and Fero could feel it again, like he did with Emmanuel sometimes, the waiting heavy like a storm on the horizon.

Lem blushed, taking a sip from his mug and turning away.

“So,” said Fero, “How long until you have to get where you’re going?”

“Excuse me?”

“You must have been going somewhere before you go here,” said Fero.

“Oh,” said Lem, “Not… particularly. I was sort of planning on staying here, for a while. If that’s okay, I suppose.”

“Well how long is  _ a while _ ?”

Lem blinked. “I don’t… I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Okay,” said Fero. He paused. “Did you want, like, an actual job here?”

“What?”

“Well if you’re going to stay here, you’re probably going to keep working here, right?” said Fero, “I mean, Adaire’s not hiring so we’re kind of the only game within like, a hundred miles.”

“Yes, that would be-” Lem broke off, smiling, “I would like that, actually. Thank you.”

Emmanuel smiled at him after he gets up, kissing Fero on the cheek.

“What?” said Fero.

“Lem says you offered him a job,” said Emmanuel.

Fero shrugged. “He seemed like he was going to be here awhile. Might as well officially get you an extra hand.”

“Two very selfless reasons,” said Emmanuel.

“That’s me,” said Feor, “entirely selfless.”

There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“I’m fine!” said Lem, “Just dropped some pans, it’s- I’m fine!”

Emmanuel laughed and stepped through the kitchen door to help Lem with whatever disaster had happened. Fero tapped his fingers against the counter, debating on whether or not to go into the kitchen as well, when a truck pulled into the parking lot. Fero didn’t recognise the freight company, Last Wolves, or the driver who got out of it, but that was nothing new. The diner wasn’t really on anyone’s regular route.

The guy grinned as he spotted Fero, waving at him before he even got inside. Fero laughed, waving back.

“Howdy,” said the man.

“Hi, hello,” said Fero, “What can I get’cha?”

“Whatever’s the house special.” He paused. “And a side of fries.”

Fero laughed. “You got it!”

When he poked his head into the kitchen to give the order to Emmanuel, Emmanuel already had the fries started. Lem was at the sink, presumably washing whatever dish he’d dropped on the floor earlier.

“Be done in a minute,” said Fero.

“Great,” said the man, “I gotta say, I’m really glad to see you guys, I was trying to take a shortcut and I think my GPS fried itself, because there is no way this route is shorter. Feel like I’ve been driving for days.”

“Yeah, we’re kind of out of the way,” said Fero, pouring the guy a coffee. He added three and half sugars without thinking about it, shaking himself. “Sorry, I, uh, is sugar okay?”

“Yeah, black with three and a half sugars would be great, thanks,” said the guy.

Fero blinked, looking from the guy in front of him to the coffee. He slid it towards the guy, studying him for a moment. Curly brown hair, dusty clothes, nice smile. Fero didn’t recognise him in the slightest but also he’d definitely seen him before.

“Hey,” said Fero, “weird question, but have we met before?”

“Not unless you’re from Auniq,” said the guy. “This is my first job out of there.”

“Then I guess not,” said Fero.

The guy looked at him, squinting a little. “Although, now you mention it… You’re not from around there? It’s up in the mountains.”

“Nah,” said Fero, “I’m from the coast.”

“Huh,” said the guy, “Well, I’m Throndir, if that rings any bells?”

It did, but not in any way that was actually helpful. Fero shook his head.

“Sorry dude,” said Fero.

“Must just be one of those things, I guess,” said Throndir.

“Must be,” said Fero.

  
  


\--

  
  


Fero’s face was buried in the crook of Emmanuel’s neck as he rode him, muffling his moans against Emmanuel’s skin. Emmanuel gripped Fero’s hip, guiding him, helping him as Fero’s rhythm began to falter, his other hand sliding to Fero’s opening. Fero cried out, curling in on himself and clutching at Emmanuel’s shoulder before he flopped forward, pressing a clumsy kiss to the underside of Emmauel’s jaw as Emmanuel’s hips stutter. Emmanuel tilted Fero’s head towards him, kissing him slowly as they both relax back into the bed, into each other.

Fero turned his head to look at Emmanuel's profile in the purple neon light. Emmanuel blinked up at the ceiling, an odd look on his face.

"What?" said Fero.

"Just… thinking."

Fero turned into his side, wriggling closer. "About?"

"Lem," said Emmanuel. 

Fero stomach twisted sharply and his sat up. Emmanuel put a hand on his side. It wasn’t a forceful movement, but it had the power to still Fero. 

"Not like  _ that _ ," said Emmanuel, smiling. 

Fero huffed, not willing to let go of being annoyed just yet. "Then like  _ what _ ?"

Emmanuel smiled. "You let him stay."

"Because  _ you  _ like him," said Fero. 

"And so do you," said Emmanuel, still smiling. 

"I do  _ not _ !" said Fero, perhaps a little louder than he meant to. "I don't like anyone!" He paused. "Except you, obviously. And Adaire's okay, I guess."

Emmanuel sat up and Fero leant towards him, fitting himself against Emmanuel's chest. Emmanuel lifted a hand to Fero's chest, a warm weight. 

"Your heart can have room for more than one person, you know," said Emmanuel. 

Fero wriggled. "No it can't. My heart’s very small. You barely fit in there."

Emmanuel huffed a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of Fero's head. "That's not true at all."

"It is so!" said Fero, wriggling more so that he could face Emmanuel while still touching as much of him as possible. "It's very small, shriveled even."

"If that is the case it is the biggest shrivelled heart I have ever seen to fit so much inside."

There really was no talking to Emmanuel when he got like this, so Fero kissed him instead. 


	2. Winter

__

Ownership of the DuCarte Motel suited Adaire quite well. The few customers that passed through were enough to keep the lights on, and they were usually quiet types who were looking for a place to stay where they wouldn’t have anyone asking questions. That suited Adaire as well, as she wasn’t looking to be asked questions either. She’d made herself a new, peaceful life and even though she did enjoy popping over to the Olday Diner to see what interpersonal drama was currently in the process of unfolding over there, she was quite happy that it never followed her home.

The only thing that had disturbed her peace recently was one of the customers in room twelve, who continually tried to things via the phone. She’d never seen either of the room’s occupants. They’d called to arrange for the room to be open for them in order to check in outside of office opening hours, and she hadn’t seen them leave the room. They’d even paid their room deposit over the phone before they arrived.

Adaire did  _ not _ , under  _ any  _ circumstances, provide room service but still the woman called with request after request. Adaire refused them all, her politeness wearing thin after the third call and practically non-existent by the tenth.

“Listen,” said Adaire, “the only food we serve here is in the mini bar. If you want a cooked meal, you’ll have to go over to the Olday Diner to get it.”

“You can’t offer it as part of the room?” said the woman’s voice, as smug as ever.

“No,” said Adaire.

“Come now, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that much of a bother to pick something up for us.”

“I’d be going out of my way,” said Adaire, “So, yes, it would be a bother.”

“Really? But surely you would be going over there at some point to eat, no?”

“Maybe,” said Adaire, “but I would be ordering for myself, not for guests. If you want to go, we can offer coupons for discounted meals.”

The woman hummed. “Perhaps I will send someone to get those then, if I can’t persuade you to be decent.”

“Many have tried,” said Adaire, and hung up without waiting for a response.

She glared at the phone, thinking briefly about disconnecting it from their room to the motel reception. Adaire sighed. It would be too annoying a task. She’d only have to reconnect it again after they left in a day or two.

There was a tentative knock at the door, and Adaire looked up. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the person in front of her, but she didn’t quite know why.

The woman was beautiful, yes, red hair twisted into a braid and her stature tall in the doorway, but there was something else, like the rushing feeling of locking her door behind her after a long day, safe at last. The woman stared at her, one hand still resting on the door handle, frozen in place as she stared at Adaire.

Adaire shook herself. “Can I help you?”

The woman opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I- Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I believe you were just speaking with my- My partner, and she said I should come up here and get a coupon for the diner?”

“Oh,” said Adaire, trying to keep her voice in a neutral tone. “Yes, we were speaking about that.”

The woman stepped forward. “Sorry about all that on the phone, I- she’s kind of used to staying in places that have room service. Takes some getting used to.”

“I suppose it does,” said Adaire. She gestured to the display next to her. “Well, there are your coupons.”

“Thanks.” The woman picked up the small piece of photocopied paper, frowning down at it. “This place any good?”

Adaire shrugged. “Sure.”

“I guess it kind of doesn’t matter,” said the woman, “Since it’s like, the only game in town.”

Adaire hummed in agreement. The Olday Diner  _ was _ good, otherwise she would have started her own diner along with the motel, but she didn’t want to sing its praises too loudly. Fero would do that well enough once the woman and her partner got over there.

The woman opened her mouth then shut it again, turning the paper coupon over in her hands a few times. Adaire stayed as still as possible, watching her out of the corner of her eye, careful to keep her head turned down towards the catalogue in front of her.

“I, uh. Thanks,” said the woman.

“No problem,” said Adaire.

There was a pause, and then the chime of the bell as the woman left. Adaire waited until she heard the door click shut before she let out a breath.

A few minutes later she saw the woman again, coupon in hand as she headed towards the diner. She was alone, although she kept glancing back towards the motel in the direction of her room as she walked, her shoulders tensing each time she looked back.

The phone rang and Adaire picked it up, her eyes hovering on the small corner of the diner that she could see from her position.

“Thank you for the coupon.”

Adaire sighed. “You’re welcome. You’re allowed one per person, and you have to use them in person for them to be accepted.”

It was, technically, in the fine print on the coupon, although Adaire had no idea if Fero had ever enforced it. He probably hadn’t even read that far down.

“Hmm, well I suppose we’ll see how good the food is the first time.”

“If you want something different you’re welcome to drive for it,” said Adaire.

The woman on the other end of the phone laughed, a rich sound even over the tinny line. “Like I said. We’ll see.”

A movement outside caught Adaire’s attention. The red-haired woman was walking back towards her motel room with a stack of containers, her shoulders less tense. Fero had that effect, on some people at least.

“I guess you will,” said Adaire.

She heard the door opening on the other line.

The red-haired woman’s voice was muffled through the phone. “Who are you talking to?”

“The woman you like who refused to give us room service.”

“It’s against policy,” said Adaire, “And my  _ name _ is  _ Adaire _ .”

“Well Adaire,” said the woman, “I think you should consider a policy change, isn’t that right Hella?”

“I think,” said Hella, sounding closer to the phone, “that you should eat this while it’s still hot.”

“Hmm. Here-”

There was a rustling sound and for a moment Adaire thought they’d dropped the phone until there was a hurried inhale over the line.

“Hi, sorry,” said Hella, “I- thanks for the recommendation. And the coupon.”

“You’re welcome,” said Adaire. She paused. “Is there… anything else?”

“Oh, uh, no,” said Hella, “no, we’re good. Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Adaire.

“Okay, well, bye,” said Hella.

She hung up before Adaire could say anything else. Adaire looked at the phone in her hand for a moment before she put it back on the receiver, looking out the window. She couldn’t see the door of room twelve from here, but she knew where it would be. Adaire allowed herself the space of a few breaths to look out towards it before she took a step away from the counter.

She had work to do, after all.

  
  


\--

  
  


Adelaide covered her mouth with her hand, although it did little to muffle the sound of her laughter. It was probably intentional; after all, she’d never been shy about laughing at Hella.

“What?” said Hella.

“You’re quite ridiculous sometimes,” said Adelaide, “It’s very charming.”

Hella didn’t know what to say to that, so she took a bite of food instead. It was every bit as good as the guy at the diner swore it would be. He’d reminded her of someone, though she couldn’t place who. Someone she’d been friends with in high school, maybe.

The food reminded her of something too, actually. Somewhere with snow. Hella frowned.

She must be thinking of something she’d seen on tv. After all, she’d never been anywhere that snowed.

The feeling stubbornly remained, lingering long after she’d finished eating. She fell asleep still trying to place it in her memories.

  
  


\--

  
  


Red Jack arrived, his bi-weekly delivery a welcome distraction from Adaire’s thoughts. 

“It’s a wonderful place to visit!” said Red Jack, his voice at its usual cheerful boom, “I’m going to drive out this way in the summer so my kids can see it!”

Adaire looked out to the long, dusty highway. “I… don’t know that there’s much for kids out here.”

Red Jack laughed. “My kids make their own fun wherever they are! And Fero has that pinball machine of his.”

“Sure I do!” said Fero, wheeling his hand truck up to them, “Three plays for a dollar!”

“A bargain!” said Red Jack, with another laugh.

Adaire wondered if other families would feel the same during vacation season. It would be her first summer vacation break with the motel, and Fero had certainly thought his last summer was busy, but people stopping at a diner on the way to somewhere else and people choosing to  _ stay  _ on the highway during their vacation were two very different things. Still, she  _ did  _ have a few bookings already, mostly people trying to break up their long car trips, so perhaps things wouldn’t be totally desolate.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she wasn’t that busy. She was her only staff member, after all.

Red Jack left them to it as he headed into the motel to take a shower, something they’d worked out between them in exchange for cheaper shipping to their out-of-the-way location.

She and Fero began to move their things off the truck, sort of assisted by Lem, although he took a long time to come back outside each time he carried something to the kitchen. Adaire could see Fero getting more and more agitated, scowling at the boxes as he stacked them onto the hand truck to wheel them inside.

She’d almost gotten all of her things off the truck as Lem emerged from the diner, still holding the box he’d walked in with ten minutes before. As he got to the truck he looked down at the box in his hands, a look of surprise on his face.

Adaire glanced at Fero out of the corner of her eye. Instead of red-faced irritation, Fero gave Lem a rueful smile.

“Listen,” said Fero, “I know he’s, like, extremely charming but we do actually need to get this stuff  _ inside _ .”

Lem’s face flushed.

“Uh, do you guys need a hand?”

Adaire looked up in surprise. She hadn’t known there was anyone else in Red Jack’s truck. A man around her age leaned half out of the passenger-side cab, bright red hair flopping over one of his eyes. Despite the heat he was wearing a bright purple hoodie, the colour standing out against the dark red of the truck.

“Do you work for Red Jack?” asked Adaire.

The guy shook his head, jumping down from the cab. “Nah, just hitchhiking.”

“Then you probably can’t,” said Adaire. “You drop something and break it, or hurt yourself, or something, and we’re liable.”

“Right,” said the man, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over his fingers. 

Adaire looked down at her inventory list, checking things off. She glanced up at the man. He was leaning a little against the truck, looking out at the highway.

“So,” said Fero, “where you headed?”

The man shrugged. “Nowhere really, just traveling. You know, seeing the sights or whatever.”

“Not many of those out this way,” said Adaire, “Except us, I suppose.”

“I guess,” said the man. He looked at the motel for a long moment.

Adaire knew that look. She’d worn it herself plenty of times, before she’d come across an old man who’d been willing to sell her a broken down motel for a song.

“Do you want to know the room rates?” said Adaire.

An expression flickered over the man’s face for a moment before he huffed a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I could afford it, if I’m honest.”

“We’re very affordable.”

“And I’m  _ very  _ broke.”

Adaire hummed, turning back to her checklist. She watched the man out of the corner of her eye, thinking as she ran her pen down the page. She’d ordered a little more than usual, beginning her preparation for the summer vacation rush, although how she would keep on top of everything else to keep the motel running on her own, she was yet to figure out.

She bit the inside of her cheek, looking up at the man again. “Do you have a time frame?”

The man blinked. “What?”

“A time frame, you know,” said Adaire, “Like are you traveling around until a particular date and then heading back home or to a new job, something like that.”

“No…” said the man slowly.

“Would you  _ like  _ a job?” said Adaire.

“I- what?”

“I need a staff person to help me during the summer,” said Adaire. “Red Jack comes every two weeks, so you could get a ride out with him after the summer’s over.”

“I… this is kind of a weird job interview,” said the man.

“Red Jack left you alone with his truck,” said Adaire, “that goes pretty far in vetting you as someone trustworthy.”

The man huffed a laugh, running his hand through his hair again. “Does working there mean I get a discounted rate at the motel?”

“Free of charge, as long as you do a good job and don’t trash your room,” said Adaire.

“Discounted meals with us, too,” said Fero, lifting himself up into the truck to get at his last few boxes.

Adaire saw Lem’s gaze go to Fero, where his movement had rucked up his t-shirt, and pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. She caught the man’s eye as she looked back towards him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he suppressed a laugh. At least she knew they’d have something to talk about if he took the job.

He grinned. “You know what? Sure.” He held out a hand. “I’m Ephrim.”

Adaire opened her mouth, her own introduction sticking in her throat. For just a moment, the smallest fraction of time, where she looked at his outstretched hand she could see purple flames.

And then she blinked, and the fire was gone.

Adaire shook his hand. “I’m Adaire. I’ll put this away and then I’ll walk you through what you’ll be doing.”

“Sure,” said Ephrim.

“Hey!” said Fero, “You should come in here to celebrate, Emmanuel’s been testing this new pie out and you can have some of the test batch on the house!”

“Uh.” Ephrim shot her a look. “Okay.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Adaire, “Emmanuel’s a good cook.”

“He’s a  _ great _ cook,” said Lem and Fero at the same time.

They both looked at each other and then looked away quickly. The back of Fero’s neck was flushed pink.

Adaire looked back down at her checklist, hiding a smile. “Go on, I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

Ephrim nodded, letting himself get ushered towards the diner as Adaire wheeled her hand truck back towards the motel. She dropped a few of the extra boxes in her office before she headed down the line of motel rooms, making sure everything was as it should be.

She paused outside Hella and Adelaide’s room. She could hear them talking inside, their voices a low murmur through the door. Adaire knocked before she could change her mind.

The door opened a silver, Hella’s expression changing from guarded to smiling as she saw Adaire.

“Uh,” said Adaire, “Mini bar refill?”

“Sounds  _ wonderful _ ,” said Adelaide, “Hella, let her through immediately.”

Hella huffed a laugh, closing the door to unlatch it and stepping aside. Adaire stayed in the doorway, holding a box under her arm. Her eyes went to the open mini bar, then back to Adelaide.

“You know you have to pay for this stuff, right?” said Adaire.

“Money is no object,” said Adelaide, swirling the whiskey in her glass.

“She doesn’t mean that,” said Hella quickly.

“Hella doesn’t like me to talk about money,” said Adelaide conspiratorially, “she thinks it makes me a target. More than I already am.”

Hella made a strangled sound.

“Oh I’m sure it’s quite safe for me to tell Ms DuCarte,” said Adelaide, “She’s quite trustworthy, aren’t you?”

Adaire couldn’t help it - she laughed. Adelaide’s smile sharpened to a grin, beckoning Adaire forward.

“I do hope we’re not pulling you away from your busy schedule,” said Adelaide.

“You are actually,” said Adaire, “I’m not done restocking the rooms.”

“What a shame,” said Adelaide, “I was going to ask you to stay for a drink.”

Behind her, Adaire could hear Hella’s sharp inhale. Adaire’s muscles tensed, but she managed to force herself not to turn towards the sound.

“I couldn’t anyway,” said Adaire, “I’m on the clock.”

“Ah,” said Adelaide, “Of course. Perhaps another time, when you are not working.”

“I kind of always am,” said Adaire, “except when I have lunch at the diner, I guess, but I’m only a few feet away so that’s kind of a grey area.”

“Perhaps we will meet you for lunch some day,” said Adelaide.

“You’d have to leave your room for that,” said Adaire.

Something flickered across Adelaide’s face.

“I guess we would,” said Hella.

Adaire glanced back at her. Hella and Adelaide’s eyes were locked on one another, a conversation happening between them in the quirk of a eyebrow, the small downward turn of Hella’s lips.

“Okay, well,” said Adaire, “I’ll just put your refill here, okay?”

“Thank you Ms DuCarte,” said Adelaide.

“Yeah,” said Hella, “thanks.”

“No problem,” said Adaire.

She checked the other rooms in a haze, stumbling back to her office and shutting the door behind her. Out her office window, she could only see the highway, but in her mind, she could feel where Hella and Adelaide’s room was.

Adaire shut her eyes and tipped her head back to rest on the back of the chair, staring up at the stucco ceiling, trying to clear her head before she went to get Ephrim.

She’d give herself ten minutes, first. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do.

  
  


\--

  
  


“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” said Hella.

“I was just talking,” said Adelaide.

“No, you weren’t, you were-” Hella huffed a breath. “You know. You  _ know _ .”

Adelaide considered her for a moment. She set down her glass, reaching out a hand to Hella.

“Come here.”

Hella did, kneeling so that Adelaide could cup Hella’s cheek in her hand. She felt herself flush, the heat of it deepening as Adelaide studied her face.

“If you really want me to stop I will,” said Adelaide.

Hella swallowed. “I know.”

Adelaide smiled down at her, slowly, her hand sliding to Hella’s shoulder. She picked up the whiskey with her free hand, lifting it to Hella’s lips. Hella drank - she was on the clock too, but it was barely a mouthful, really.

Adelaide kissed her before she’d swallowed most of it, the heat of it much more heady than the liquor. The lightest press of her hands guided Hella up and onto the bed with her, pulling Hella against her. Hella’s hands went to Adelaide’s shirt, tugging it out of her skirt, thrilling as her hands wrinkled the fabric.

Their lives were so different in this moment than what they were, back when they had been boiled down to a handful of stolen moments together in back rooms and poorly-lit stairwells, but there was a part of Hella that still delighted in this, that would always delight in this, that she could mess the perfectly presented Adelaide Tristero, the way Adelaide grinned at her as she did it.

Hella slid down Adelaide’s body, unbuttoning Adelaide’s skirt as she went, letting the fabric pool at Adelaide’s sides. She kissed along the planes of Adelaide’s stomach, smiling as Adelaide’s breath hitched. Hella delighted in that, too, that Adelaide trusted her enough to react in a way that Hella could see.

Adelaide slid a hand into Hella’s hair, guiding her down further, and Hella followed her hand without hesitation. She mouthed over Adelaide, tasting the barest hint of her through the fabric of her underwear. Adelaide let out a long exhale, her hands leaving Hella’s hair to pet along her shoulders, her neck.

Hella preened for a moment under her touch before she hooked two fingers into the waistband on Adelaide’s underwear, pulling them down. Adelaide lifted her hips to help her and Hella could see the light glint off the sheen inside her thighs. Something stuttered in her chest, and she slid a hand to Adelaide’s hip, easing her back down onto the bed again.

Adelaide’s hands went back to her hair, but this time Hella didn’t wait for guidance before she leaned forward to lick at Adelaide, grinning at Adelaide’s choked-off gasp. The parameters of her mission shrank down to Adelaide’s voice, guided by the sounds she made and the way Adelaide’s hands twisted in her hair when Hella hit just the right spot.

She could feel Adelaide’s thighs begin to shake and she put a hand on one to steady it, her thumb rubbing a small circle. Adelaide’s next exhale sounded closer to a whimper, and Hella slid her hand a little higher, a little closer to where her mouth was working Adelaide.

“Yes,” breathed Adelaide.

Hella slid two fingers inside her easily, giving Adelaide something to arch against as Hella focused her mouth on Adelaide’s clit. Adelaide moaned, nails pricking against Hella’s scalp. Heat jolted through her, sudden and sharp, and Hella squeezed her thighs together, taking a breath before she focused back on Adelaide.

“ _ Hella _ ,” said Adelaide.

“Sorry,” said Hella, her voice hoarse.

“No, that’s not-” Adelaide exhaled slowly, her eyes dark as she looked down her body to meet Hella’s gaze. “Touch yourself, too.”

Hella let out a shuddering breath, resting her forehead against Adelaide’s thigh for a moment. She pressed a kiss to the inside of Adelaide’s thigh, feeling Adelaide’s muscles twitch under her lips.

She set back to work on Adelaide first before she lifted her hips up enough to wiggle a hand under the waistband of her own leggings, grinding down on the heel of her palm and groaning as the sensation that shot through her.

“Good girl,” said Adelaide softly.

Hella let out a shaky breath, sliding two fingers inside herself, keeping her rhythm inside Adelaide slow until she could match it. She could feel Adelaide getting close again, her hips arching towards Hella’s mouth and hand, and Hella chased that feeling in her own body, racing to the peak to meet her.

She could feel Adelaide come before her, Adelaide’s thighs clamping down on her ears and blocking out the world as Hella followed her over the edge.

There was a tremble in Adelaide’s thighs as she came back to herself, her legs sliding back open so that Hella could look up at her. She stroked a hand through Hella’s hair. It was only mid afternoon, but Hella let her eyes flutter closed, pressing a clumsy kiss to Adelaide’s skin.

Adelaide hummed, pleased. Hella could feel her relax back further into the bed, shifting a little as she reached for a miniature bottle of water on the bedside table.

“We do have to pay for those,” said Hella, without opening her eyes.

“Not until we check out,” said Adelaide, “And I have a feeling that’s not going to be for quite a while.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Adaire could see Hella heading to the front office, looking down at her ledger before Hella reached the door. She flipped the page to their reservation. They’d been staying at the motel almost two weeks, by far the longest guests she’d ever had, and so she wanted their checkout to go smoothly.

“Morning,” said Hella.

“Hi,” said Adaire.

“So I know we’ve done this like three times already,” said Hella, “but I wanted to extend our room booking by another week.”

Adaire paused, her pen hovering over the  _ check out _ column. She looked up at Hella sharply.

“What?” said Hella, leaning on the counter, “I know the room’s available, we’re in it.”

“It’s nothing,” said Adaire. She looked down at the ledger, careful to keep her writing neat and orderly as she added the days to their booking. “I just… don’t normally get folks staying here this long, that’s all.”

Hella let out a breath and Adaire looked up. She was surprised to see the blush on Hella’s cheeks.

“I- We probably should be moving on, I mean, that’s important for-” Hella pressed her lips together. “But it’s… this place. There’s just something about it, I guess.”

“Yeah,” said Adaire ruefully, “it’s a real paradise I’ve created here.”

“No it’s… it’s… I just like it here, I guess,” said Hella. “Adelaide, she likes it too.” Hella wrinkled her nose. “Or, she likes that  _ I _ like it, or something. It’s complicated.”

“I bet,” said Adaire.

Hella’s blush deepened and she cleared her throat. “So, uh. The extra week won’t be an issue?”

“Not as long as you keep paying for them.”

Hella glanced over her shoulder. The parking lot in front of the motel was as empty as ever. She pulled out her wallet, carefully counting out the money onto the counter. There was a lot of it.

“Is that right?” said Hella.

“I’m sure it is,” said Adaire.

She’d recount it after Hella left, of course, but Hella didn’t need to know that.

Hella scooped the money together, pushing it towards Adaire on the counter. Their fingers brushed as Adaire reached for it, and Hella froze. So did Adaire.

The touch, by consequence, lingered.

Adaire could feel the callus on the pad of one of Hella’s fingers. She swallowed, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she drew her hand back, away from Hella’s touch.

“Thanks,” says Adaire. Her voice sounded a little hoarse to her ears, making her cheeks flush.

“No problem,” said Hella.

Adaire was almost sure that Hella’s voice sounded just as rough, but she didn’t want to read into things.

Hella left, walking quickly back to her room. Adaire watched her go, tapping her pen on the page for a moment before she dropped it onto the counter, moving to follow Hella.

Her phone buzzed on the counter with a text from Fero.

_ Fero Olday: emmanuel just made some of those garlic rolls if u want 2 get in on this while theyre still hot _

Adaire bit her lip for a moment, looking up from her phone towards Hella and Adelaide’s motel room, considering the message for a moment. Although she didn’t believe in signs, this certainly felt like at least part of one. It was a reason to go knock on their door, anyway, to invite them to the diner with her.

It was about client relations, she told herself as she headed towards their room. She was doing what any dedicated small business owner would do.

She paused before she knocked at the door, taking a steadying breath. It was because of the pause that she could hear inside the room. Specifically, she could hear the amused rumble of Adelaide’s voice, followed by Hella’s low moan. Something in Adaire’s stomach twisted hotly. She quickly walked away from their room, her face burning.

She walked into her office and then out again, heading to the diner. A change of location would clear her head.

Emmanuel smiled as she entered, a plate of rolls set on the counter in front of him.

“Fero texted you I see.”

Adaire nodded, sliding onto a stool. “Well, they are quite good.”

Emmanuel smiled. “Thank you.”

She looked down at the plate in front of her. “I don’t think I’ll eat  _ this _ many though.”

“You don’t have to,” said Emmanuel, “I, uh, thought you might be bringing company with you.”

“So did I,” said Adaire, before she could stop herself.

Emmanel gave her a rueful smile as he pushed the warm, fresh bread towards her. He fiddled around with something on the counter as she stared down at the food. She didn’t even fully register that he was still there until he pushed a mug of tea towards her.

“On the house,” said Emmanuel, “you seem as though you are in need of it.”

Adaire breathed in the steam of the tea. It had a sharp spice to it, the way she liked. She nodded, taking a small sip. He nodded back to her, stepping away to wipe down the other end of the counter. She appreciated the space, drinking her tea in silence.

“Emmanuel,” said Adaire, “do you ever feel like…like you’re waiting for something? But you’re not exactly sure what it is that you’re waiting  _ for _ , so you’re just… waiting.”

Emmanuel’s gaze slid to the kitchen doors. She could hear Fero and Lem faintly behind it, arguing, or maybe just talking. Fero laughed, a sharp, warm sound.

Emmanuel smiled. “Sometimes.”

“What do you do, when you get that feeling?”

Emmanuel looked back at her, a crooked smile on his lips. “When I figure that out, I will let you know.”

  
  


\--

  
  


“Room twelve’s asking for you,” said Ephrim.

Adaire looked up. She didn’t need to look up who was in that particular room.

“Did they say what it was in regards to?” said Adaire, pleased that her voice held steady.

Ephrim shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t ask.”

“That’s okay,” said Adaire, “I doubt you’ll get many requests like this anyway, they’re… a special case.”

Ephrim nodded. He’d been of great help, especially in the past week. She’d been feeling preoccupied of late, even if she’d been avoiding the source of the preoccupation. It had been surprisingly difficult. Hella, especially, had been very persistent, leaving messages and dropping by unexpectedly.

Adaire sighed. “I suppose I’d better go see what they want.”

Ephrim gave her a relieved look, nodding before he headed back to the storeroom.

Adaire flexed her hands as she walks, putting them behind her back as she approached the room where her nerves wouldn’t be so visible. She swallowed hard, listening for a moment to the quiet inside the room before she knocked.

Hella opened the door wide.

“I heard that you wanted to speak to me,” said Adaire.

“Finally,” said Adelaide, “Hella’s only left you about twenty messages.”

“I was busy,” said Adaire.

“With?”

“My  _ work _ ,” said Adaire.

Adelaide arched an eyebrow but said nothing, which only irritated Adaire more. She took a deep breath in through her nose.

“I apologise for being so difficult to contact,” said Adaire, “Is there something I can assist you with?”

Adelaide leaned back on the couch, dragging her eyes slowly over Adaire. “No, everything is very much to my liking.”

Adaire felt her cheeks flush, and she turned to leave. She’d taken a few steps out of the doorway when Hella caught her arm.

“Adaire, I- are you alright?” said Hella.

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Adaire, “I’m just, I’m busy. I know this place isn’t much but there’s a lot to do, every day, I can’t just sit around and wait for you to call, especially if it’s just-”

She pressed her lips together, cutting herself off.

“I know, I know, I-” Hella swallowed. “Sorry, it’s just- she knows I like you.”

Adaire’s heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest.

“What?” she said faintly.

“Adelaide, she- we’ve been together a while, which, it was pretty complicated, because of her whole,” Hella waved a hand. “Family situation, and then we came out here and it was supposed to be, you know, lay low for a couple of days in the kind of place no one would think to look for her, uh, no offence?”

Adaire nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak.

“But then, I just… I saw you,” said Hella, ”I saw you, and I got back to the room and she just, she  _ knew _ , and then she kept trying to meet you and she wouldn’t stop  _ teasing _ me about it-”

Adaire realised, suddenly, that Hella’s cheeks were just as flushed as her own. It was possible, maybe, that they were flushed for the same reason.

“And then she met you,” continued Hella, “and she started teasing  _ you _ , and I know sometimes she can be kind of a bit much, but, she just- she likes you, too, I think. But she especially knows I like you, and I, uh. Is any of this making sense?”

“No,” said Adaire, “But I think I understand what you mean anyway.”

Hella let out a deep breath, her hand tightening on Adaire’s arm. Adaire stepped closer, watching the flicker of emotions over Hella’s face.

“I hope you do,” said Hella.

Hella took a breath and for a moment Adaire ached to lean forward, to tug Hella down and soothe Hella’s twitchy energy with her lips- but then Hella was letting go of her arm and stepping back, tucking her hands back into her pockets. Adaire’s fingers flexed at her sides.

Hella wet her lips. “Listen, I, uh. I know you’re never really off the clock, but maybe when you’re done for the day you could join us, for dinner, or a drink, or anything.”

“That’s- I’d like that,” said Adaire.

“So would I,” said Hella, “so would  _ we _ .”

“I’ll be finished a little after six,” said Adaire.

Hella nodded. “I’ll- we’ll be waiting. We’re not going anywhere.”

Adaire huffed a laugh, forcing herself to step away, walking slowly back to the office. She could feel Hella’s eyes on her, although now it felt a little like the warmth of having the sun at her back.

She walked to her office, keeping her steps measured and careful, shutting the door behind her. From her office window, she could only see the long stretch of highway, but she could feel Hella and Adelaide’s room, waiting for her.

  
Perhaps, Adaire thought, this is the thing she had been waiting  _ for _ .


	3. Spring

Road trip season did come, and with it came a surprising amount of people. Not so many that the motel had a waiting list, but there were certainly more nights than Adaire had thought there would be where almost every room was taken, holidaying families and couples fitting in between truck drivers taking a break and one notable long-stay room.

Adaire could hardly begrudge them for taking up the space. They did pay for the room, obviously, but Hella also offered to help out here and there, unloading deliveries from Red Jack’s truck, helping Adaire carry loads of laundry back and forth, leaning on the counter and making faces at Adaire to distract her on long phone calls with people wanting to book a room. Adelaide occasionally made an appearance, although her help consisted mostly of directing Hella on where she should put down particular boxes and leaning against the counter to look at whatever Adaire was doing.

It should have been a nuisance, but Adaire was usually more focussed on not being flustered to be annoyed, even as Hella’s offer to come to their room faded to the back of her mind.

Or, not  _ faded _ . The offer hovered on the edge of her every thought, but it seemed that there was always something that needed to be done urgently, right this minute, and by the time she got to the end of the list of urgent things she barely had the energy to drag herself to bed, let alone to have a drink with Adelaide and Hella, and whatever else that would entail.

Ephrim helped as well, of course. He was great at talking to people, marking interesting landmarks on maps, recommending which pie they should try at the Olday Diner, chatting to them about the rest of their destinations as he helped them check out. Adaire was glad her strange gut feeling about him had paid off.

“We’ve got another booking, two rooms,” said Ephrim, “Two night stay, apparently this couple’s car broke down on the highway, and this  _ other _ couple stopped to help them, and now they’re all like, stranded here until they can get AAA or whoever to come fix their car-”

Sometimes, Adaire thought, Ephrim was a little  _ too _ good with people, actually, too willing to hear their problems and try to solve as many as he could for the length of their stay. Still, it wasn’t her place to cure him of that.

“Great,” said Adaire, “let me know if you need a hand checking them in when they make it here.”

Ephrim nodded, looking distractedly over his shoulder. “What- oh, wow, is that  _ Red Jack _ ?”

She followed Ephrim out of her office at the sound of their front door opening, the chiming of the bell followed by the sound of at least eight kids - yelling, chattering, laughing - all as loud as Red Jack himself. Red Jack himself looked much like he normally did, sunburnt and grinning, except that instead of his usual uniform jumpsuit he was wearing a souvenir t-shirt from Nacre Resorts and bright pink shorts with tiny yellow horses on them.

“Hello!” said Red Jack, “I told you I would bring my family to visit! Kids, this is Ms DuCarte, and Ephrim.”

The children said hello, their voices a cheery sing-song chorus. Adaire couldn’t help but smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ephrim was similarly effected, pink-cheeked and grinning.

“I will need a big room with as many beds as possible!” said Red Jack, “Most of the kids can share, but Blue J is getting a little old to bunk with more than one other sibling.”

He gestured out the window to a teen in a denim blue shirt dress, leaning against what must have been Red Jack’s van. Blue J waved, the group of kids copying the motion. Blue J laughed and although Adaire couldn’t hear the sound, the roll of it through their body was exactly like Red Jack’s.

“I think we have something that will work,” said Adaire, flicking through the ledger.

“Excellent!” boomed Red Jack. He turned towards Ephrim. “I see you’ve been settling in well here since I saw you last!”

“Yeah, it’s been good, especially with how busy we are at the moment,” said Ephrim, “It’s nice to do something where I can like, actually physically see the difference at the end of the day.”

Adaire tuned them out (as much as anyone  _ could  _ tune Red Jack out) as she wrote out their details. Ephrim had been trying to convince her to go paperless, but they’d need a better computer for that, and anyway, she liked having it down on paper. She liked feeling like she had part of the motel that she could take with her, quickly, if she ever needed to leave.

She got out the key to Red Jack’s room, handing it to Ephrim. If he noticed that she was in just as close to Red Jack to be able to hand it over he didn’t say anything, smiling as he pointed Red Jack in the direction of the room, even going so far as to walk him to it.

Adaire carefully didn’t say anything when Ephrim returned, smiling to himself. She didn’t have time to anyway - he’d barely gotten back behind the counter before a minivan pulled up outside.

“That must the two couples,” said Ephrim.

Adaire nodded, flipping to a fresh page in her ledger before she looked up. It was a strange group - a woman in a simple floral sundress and a man in a sun-print tank top and jean shorts got out of the front, and a man in a half-undone shirt and jeans and another man in a simple white t-shirt and leggings got out of the back, along with golden-haired little boy and a teen with big, hipster-looking glasses. She raised her eyebrows at Ephrim.

“Hello,” said the singlet wearing man upon entering, “I’m Hadrian and this is my wife Rosana, our son Benjamin, and, uh, Samothes and Samot and their son, um-”

“Maelgwyn,” said Samot, with a smile that only looks a little forced.

“Maelgwyn, yes, sorry,” said Hadrian, “I called earlier about a room?”

Ephrim nodded, walking them through the process with a level of detail that Adaire thought was excessive but that both Hadrian and Samothes seemed to really appreciate, nodding along carefully.

“ _ Thank _ you,” said Hadrian, as Ephrim handed over the keys, “I called like three places before you guys and they all only had single rooms left, and it just wouldn’t have felt right-”

Adaire nodded, barely listening.

“It was very kind of you,” said Samot, putting a hand on Hadrian’s arm.

A strange expression flickered over Hadrian’s face, a look of confusion combined with a deep blush.

“Uh. No, sure, it’s, uh. It’s our pleasure to help, right honey?”

Rosana smiled at him. “Yes, of course, we’re happy to help. We would have needed to stop for the night somewhere anyway, so it’s not really even that far out of our way.”

They chatted for a little longer, through the logistics of getting AAA out to the highway, the closest repairs places, the kind of tools Hadrian and Samothes had with them and why they weren’t suitable for the repair the car needed. Adaire listened with half an ear, letting out a long breath the moment the door shut behind the group.

“You said it,” said Ephrim, huffing a laugh.

Adaire looked up sharply. “I thought you loved those guys, the way you were talking to them.”

“It’s called  _ customer service _ ,” said Ephrim.

Adaire did laugh at that, and Ephrim grinned.

“I mean, they seem okay but also their vibe was  _ so _ different on the phone,” said Ephrim, “I mean, I almost thought they were on a group trip but I don’t think they actually know each other at all, which makes the whole-” he put a hand on her arm, mimicking Samot’s position earlier, “like, extra weird.”

“Oh  _ absolutely _ ,” said Adaire, “let’s hope they can keep it together until tomorrow night, I don’t want anybody breaking the furniture.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Samot sighed in relief as they stepped into the cool diner. After waiting in the sun by the side of the road, driving in a packed car, and sorting out their suitcases in a poorly air-conditioned motel room, he felt very thankful to step inside somewhere that felt actually, decently cold.

“I’ll see about getting some menus,” said Rosana.

Hadrian moved to follow her, the two of them smiling at each other as they waited at the counter. Their son drifted away towards the diner’s lone pinball machine. Maelgwyn did the opposite, fingers curling in the fabric of Samot’s leggings the way he used to do when he was very small. Samot put a hand on his head, absently running his hand through Mealgwyn’s curls.

He’d been doing it again since they started their trip. It was probably just because they were always in new places, around new people, and Maelgwyn wasn’t always as confident as he seemed to be, but part of Samot couldn’t help but wonder if maybe somehow Maelgwyn knew this trip would be their last together.

“Why don’t you go see if they have a map for your scrapbook?” said Samothes. “Your father and I will get a table.”

“Yes,” said Samot, “pick any map you want from over there.”

Maelgwyn looked up at him. “Can I pick more than one?”

“As many as you want,” said Samot. “You know, I think your grandfather used to have a place around here somewhere, there might even be something about that on one of those maps. He’d probably love that as a souvenir from you.”

Maelgwyn beamed, heading over to the wall of maps and brochures that was set up besides the pinball machine. Samot watched him go. Part of him wondered if they shouldn’t have cancelled the trip, just sat Maelgwyn down and told him straight away, but Maelgwyn had been looking forward to going to Nacre Resort and Pirate Adventure Island all year and it seemed cruel to take it away from him, along with everything else they were about to put him through.

“Shall we?” said Samothes.

Samot nodded, suppressing a sigh. He’d also been hoping, just a little, that perhaps the trip would shake them out of it too, that maybe he’d been wrong and that away from regular life and their work they could find the common ground they used to share. Instead, Samothes had checked his work email on his phone every minute that he wasn’t driving or sleeping, stepping away at rest stops to make “one quick call”. Sure enough, Samothes pulled out his phone again as they sat down, typing a reply to a notification.

Samot swallowed another sigh, looking across the diner towards Hadrian and Rosana. Their fingers were tangled together on the countertop as the scruffy man behind the counter pointed to the specials on the board behind him. Hadrian laughed, turning a little towards Rosana to smile at her, too. It made Samot’s chest ache.

“I know it’s been a long day, but could you stop staring at a younger version of me as through you’re about to ravage him?” said Samothes, voice quiet.

“You didn’t used to mind when I looked at younger men,” said Samot, mildly.

“That was when I could trust you to involve me.”

“Why should I need to  _ involve _ you in anything I do?”

“Yes, you made that perfectly clear when you dropped  _ divorce papers _ to my  _ office _ ,” said Samothes.

Samot smirked. It was a little petty, perhaps, but hearing Samothes’s outraged spluttering on the phone that particular afternoon had felt like a victory.

“I don’t know why you think it’s so  _ charming _ of you to do,” said Samothes, “Anybody could have opened it.”

“It’s going to come out eventually,” said Samot, “I thought you would have liked the easy spread of the information.”

“That is not,” said Samothes, “what you  _ thought _ . You wanted to humiliate me.”

“If I thought you would look at the papers at home, I would have given them to you at home,” said Samot.

“I would have!”

“When?” said Samot, “While you were brushing your teeth before you went to sleep in the guest room? Any other waking moment, you’re at work!”

“My work is important!”

“I know!” said Samot.

“Then why do you hate me so much for doing it?”

“Because I thought we were more important!”

Samot felt the diner go still. Maelgwyn, standing by the pinball machine and clutching a road map, stared at him with wide eyes.

“I need some air,” said Samot.

Samothes followed, of course. He always followed when Samot didn’t particularly want him to. Samot sped up, and Samothes caught his arm, spinning Samot around to face him.

“You are!” said Samothes, voice quiet, “You  _ are _ the most important thing in my life.”

Samot looked away. “I don’t feel like it.”

Samothes swallowed. “I don’t… I don’t know what you want me to  _ do _ .”

“Yes, you do,” said Samot, still not looking at him, “I already gave you the papers.”

He shook himself out of Samothes’s grip, and Samothes let him go easily, his hand drifting back to his side.

“I’m not hungry,” said Samot, “Tell Maelgwyn… tell him I’m not feeling well and I went to lie down.”

It wouldn’t be completely a lie. He certainly didn’t feel like eating.

He locked the motel room door behind him, toeing off his shoes before he lay down on top of the covers. The light coming through the curtains was enough to see the room - their suitcases clustered in the corner, Samothes’s blue jacket draped over the back of a chair. Well, they called it Samothes’s jacket, but Samot had liked the colour so much that he’d basically taken ownership of it through their marriage, gleefully stealing it out of Samothes’ side of the wardrobe, Samothes pretending to frown about it until he could take it back.

He hadn’t even seen Samothes pack it.

Samot’s throat ached sharply and he closed his eyes, trying his best to think of nothing at all.

  
  


\--

  
  


Samothes stayed away for as long as he could, lingering in the diner over a cold cup of coffee and watching as the sun set below the highway. Hadrian and Rosana had long since departed for their room, taking Ben and Maelgwyn with them.

“You know, I think they made friends on the car ride here,” said Hadrian, “and I think they’d both like a sleepover, isn’t that right?”

Ben, to his credit, had gone along with his father’s ham-fisted but very thoughtful lie, and Maelgwyn had seemed excited enough about the idea.

It didn’t make the idea of going back to his and Samot’s room any more pleasant. If anything the lack of Maelgwyn there would be sure to make things more openly hostile. Samothes swallowed the last mouthful of coffee, wincing at the temperature. He may as well get it over with. Hopefully whatever fight they’d have would be a pressure release, and they could get through the rest of the trip without incident, a happy memory for Maelgwyn.

Instead of what he was expecting - Samot tapping his foot, waiting to pounce the moment he stepped in the door, ready with ten prepared arguments - the room was so quiet and dark that Samothes thought for a moment that Samot had left until he saw the shape in the bed move slightly.

“Only me,” said Samothes softly.

“Oh,” said Samot, “I fell asleep.” He sat up a little. “Maelgwyn?”

“With Hadrian and Rosana.”

“We just met them and you’re forcing them into babysitting duties?”

“They offered,” said Samothes, still keeping his voice soft. “Can we just-”

“I’m going back to sleep,” said Samot.

Samothes let out a breath. “Right.”

That was what it was like, now. He would try to talk to Samot, and Samot would already be gone. He’d pulled away from him so slowly that Samothes had barely noticed it until he looked up one night and realised it had been  _ months _ since the two of them had had dinner together, had gone out together, had even so much as watched tv next to each other.

It was part of the reason they’d planned this trip, after all. At the time, he’d thought it would be perfect, something Maelgwyn would love and a chance for them both to get away, refocus on what really mattered…

His phone buzzed in his pocket, some new message undoubtedly from work. Probably Primo, considering what time it was. He stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him so the light wouldn’t wake Samot, and read through the message while he brushed his teeth.

It wasn’t anything urgent, thankfully. He couldn’t really have given it his full attention, his mind pulled towards Samot.

He tried to move as little as possible as he got into bed, as always, staring up at the ceiling and willing his muscles to relax and his mind to still enough for sleep. Beside him, he heard Samot exhale shakily.

Samothes rolled over. The purple neon of the diner streamed in through the thin curtain, illuminating Samot’s body in the dark. Samothes considered him, the lines of a body he knew as well as his own. Samot’s thin pajama top had ridden up, showing the curl of part of the floral tattoo that covered Samot’s side.

Samothes remembered when he got it, a youthful fancy that had taken hours and multiple trips to complete, and Samothes had held his hand all the while. He’d taken days off work, even.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

Samot shifted, looking up at Samothes. “What is it?”

“Just-” Samothes let out a breath. “Thinking.”

Samot raised himself up on his elbows. “About?”

Samothes reached for Samot’s side, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of Samot’s top before he drew back, unsure if the contact would be welcome. Samot exhaled, the fabric shifting higher, a petal of a flower showing.

“Just thinking about when you got that.”

Samot frowned for a moment, looking down, his fingers skimming along his side.

“Oh.” He paused. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not so long.”

“Before Maelgwyn was born,” said Samot.

“He’s not that old,” said Samothes.

“You’ll be saying that until he’s forty.”

Samothes smiled. “Perhaps.”

Samot smiled back, and for a moment everything was as it should be.

There was a pause, the only sound their breathing in the darkness. Samothes’s fingers twitched, reaching for Samot, and this time he didn’t draw back, peeling up Samot’s top to look at the design in the dim light. Samot’s rib cage expanded as he breathed, making the design seem to move, like a living mass of plants spilling from his ribcage.

“I’ve always thought,” said Samothes, “that this was one of the most beautiful pieces of art I have ever seen in my life.”

“Perhaps I should have been an artist.”

“You could have,” said Samothes, “You certainly make a beautiful canvas, at any rate.”

He traced a finger along a stem and Samot shivered. Samothes pulled his hand back but Samot caught it, drawing it back down to his side. When Samothes’ finger made hesitant contact with his skin, Samot’s breath hitched. Samothes slid a hand along his side, and Samot lifted a hand, cupping his cheek.

They looked at each other for a long moment, their breathes slowing until they were in time with each other. Samot’s fingers twitched on Samothes’ cheek and Samothes leant forwards, the barest pressure on Samot’s hand, and then Samot was drawing him down into a kiss.

It was slow and languid in a way they hadn’t kissed in a long time, a kiss of sleepy Sunday mornings, sinking into one another, breaking away only to take a breath.

Samothes shifted, moving so that his face was closer to Samot’s side. He pressed a kiss to the centre of a flower and Samot shuddered, carding a hand through Samothes’s hair.

“Where did you get the design idea from again?”

“In a dream,” said Samot softly, drawing Samothes back up to kiss him again, “I saw it in a dream.”

They moved together slowly, relearning each other’s bodies by inches. Samothes traced along Samot’s chest, his stomach, the vee of his hips. Samot gasped, clutching at Samothes’ shoulder, one hand tangling in Samothes’ hair. He tugged, grinning at Samothes’ responding groan.

It took Samothes a moment to remember the exact angle of his fingers, and then Samot was shuddering, biting his hand to muffle the sound he made. Samothes leant up to kiss him, thrusting against Samot’s hip.

Samot tugged sharply on Samothes’ hair and Samothes moaned in Samot’s mouth. He wanted to stay in this moment with Samot forever, he wanted to stay with  _ him  _ forever, he loved him, he loved him, he loved him-

Samot went still underneath him, and it took Samothes a moment to realise that Samot’s cheeks were wet.

“Samot…”

Samot covered his face.

“I don’t… I’m sorry,” said Samothes, “I should have never… this only makes things more complicated, I know, I just…”

He forced himself to move away from Samot’s body, lying next to him on the bed. The silence between them stretched, words aching in Samothes’s throat.

“I just missed you,” said Samothes, voice quiet. “We haven’t- I feel like I’ve barely seen you, you barely speak to me-”

Samot uncovered his face, taking a shuddering breath. “How could I, when you’re always at work?”

“You didn’t exactly make a place for me at home,” said Samothes, an old hurt rising to the surface.

“I  _ tried _ .”

“By moving my things to the guestroom?”

“I only did that because you were working so late I thought you’d prefer not to be woken up by me in the morning,” said Samot.

“I only started working late because it seemed like you preferred me to,” said Samothes, “You got your nights to yourself.”

“I didn’t mean I wanted  _ every _ night to myself,” said Samot.

“Well you certainly acted like it.”

“Well  _ you _ certainly acted like  _ you _ liked it as well,” said Samot.

Samothes paused. “I didn’t. I don’t. Samot...”

Samot pressed his lips together.

Samothes reached for him, then pulled his hand back, fingers curling in the sheets to avoid touching Samot. His throat ached again, and he swallowed around it.

  
  


\--

  
  


Hadrian let Maelgwyn pick a movie to watch. It seemed like a good enough distraction, and he and Rosana certainly didn’t know enough about whatever was happening with his parents to give any better comfort than that.

He chose an off-brand copy of  _ Beauty and the Beast _ , and Rosana smiled at Hadrian over the top of Maelgwyn’s head. Hadrian smiled back, his hand brushing her shoulder where they were sitting on the couch.

Ben sat through the first song before he started fidgeting.

“I’m hungry,” said Ben, “Can I go get something from the diner? I promise I’ll come right back and everything.”

“Sure,” said Rosana, reaching to pause the movie.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that,” said Ben, “I’ll definitely be right back, I won’t miss much.”

Rosana gave Hadrian a look, and he knew exactly what she meant. Ben had been twitchy the last few days of their trip, which they both agreed was probably to do with being far too cool to spend so much time with his parents.

“Okay honey,” said Rosana, “don’t be too long.”

“He has your skill at deception,” said Rosana, after Ben left.

Hadrian huffed a laugh. “Listen, the kid loves pinball, who am I to hold it against him?”

“Shh,” said Maelgwyn.

“Sorry,” whispered Rosana.

She leant her head back against his arm on the couch, the contact warm and familiar. Hadrian felt himself relax back into the couch with the sensation of it.

  
  


\--

  
  


The silence in Samot and Samothes’s room stretched on.

“Please,” said Samothes, “talk to me.”

Samot let out a shaky exhale. “Do you really mean it?”

“Do I mean what?”

Samot shifted on the bed, turning to face him. “That you miss me. That you love me.”

Samothes’s breath caught in his throat. “I do, Samot, I-”

He reached for Samot, tangling their fingers together and pulling Samot’s hand towards him. Samot looked up at him, studying his face. He reached up with him free hand, tracing his fingertips along Samothes’s cheekbones.

“I believe you,” said Samot softly, “God help me, but I really believe you.”

“So what do we do now?” said Samothes.

“We could try actually going to marriage counselling instead of just making the appointment and then bailing,” said Samot.

Samothes huffed a laugh. “Right, although-”

His phone buzzed on the bedside table and Samot froze. Samothes’s fingers itched to reach for it, to check whatever half-important message it was, but to do so would be to let go of Samot’s hand.

“I’ll check it later,” said Samothes, “We’re talking right now.”

Something flickered over Samot’s face and he surged forwards, kissing Samothes.

Samothes laughed into his mouth. “I thought you just said we should do counselling.”

“We’ll do that too,” said Samot, “but first, right now, I want to do some positive reinforcement.”

Samothes laughed, letting Samot manhandle him onto his back, and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

For once, their problems could wait until tomorrow.

  
  


\--

  
  


Ben stopped short when he got into the diner. He’d thought it would be empty, but there was actually someone else right where he wanted to be - another teenager at the pinball machine. He thought for a moment about going back to the room, but he didn’t particularly want to watch Beauty and the Beast, and it would kind of be cool to talk to someone his own age after spending a week straight with his parents, so he stepped towards the pinball machine.

“Hey,” said Ben, “Can I have a turn next?”

The other teenager startled, their hand clutching at the machine as they fell. Ben reached out to steady them, catching their arm and then-

His mind whirled, a wave of memories hitting and mixing and swirling with the ones already in his mind. A crumbling tower and the little apartment he knew was his home. His dad in an old suit. His mother in worn travelling clothes. His father in armor. His mother in her favourite sundress. A book of spells. His pile of geometry homework. Blue J, their cheeks flushed a pretty navy blue by the cold wind. Blue J, grinning at him as they planned their adventures together. Blue J, in front of them now, looking just as shocked to see him as he was to see them.

Blue J swallowed. “I- did you-”

“Yes,” said Ben, “Yes, holy shit, Blue J-”

Blue J wrapped their arm around him, pulling him close. Ben was taller here than he was in his memories - his face pressed to their side of their head instead of their shoulder. Blue J must have thought the same, because they huffed a laugh.

“What  _ happened _ ?” said Ben.

Blue J pulled back, keeping their hands on his shoulders. Ben covered their hands, their fingers slotting together as easily as they ever had.

“I don’t know,” said Ben, “Wait, hang on, I-  _ Samothes _ is here.  _ Samot _ is here.”

Blue J’s eyes went wide. “I saw Adaire! But I didn’t- I just thought she was some lady, like, I didn’t remember her until I saw you.”

“That makes sense, kind of,” said Ben, “I mean, I didn’t remember from seeing my parents or anything.”

“Yeah, me either,” said Blue J. “Wait, our parents. We can’t just let them not remember, right?”

“We’ll figure something out,” said Ben.

Blue J squeezed his hands. “Course we will. This is just a new adventure.”


	4. Summer

“So,” said Blue J, “how are we actually going to do this?”

Ben bit his lip, watching the pinball bounce from one side to the other. He’d tried asking his parents, which had gone about as well as he should have expected.

“Dad,” said Ben carefully, “do you believe in, like, reincarnation?”

Hadrian had frowned, setting his coffee cup back down and reaching across the table to push the maple syrup closer to where Maelgwyn could reach it.

“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it,” said Hadrian, “Why’s that?”

“I was just, uh. I was reading this article about someone who had these flashbacks, sort of, to their past life, and I guess I was thinking about it, you know, who I would have been.”

Hadrian nodded, reaching across the table to mop up the maple syrup that Maelgwyn had spilled on the table.

“Sorry,” said Maelgwyn.

“It’s okay, easy fixed,” said Hadrian, “Just be careful when you’re pouring it.”

Maelgwyn nodded, continuing to flood his pancakes with syrup.

“So,” said Ben, trying for a casual tone, “who do you think you would have been in a past life?”

Hadrian thought for a moment, looking over at the counter where Rosana was chatting with Emmanuel. Hadrian smiled. Ben was glad that, no matter what the universe, at least some parts of his life remained the same.

“I don’t know,” said Hadrian, “hopefully someone similar to who I am now.”

Ben’s chest felt tight.

Hadrian looked back to him. “How about you?”

Ben shrugged. He couldn’t exactly say ‘wizard’.

Blue J’s conversation with their father hadn’t gone much better. They’d asked the same question to Red Jack and had gotten a long and involved story about a psychic Red Jack had known in the 80s, but they didn’t emerge with any idea if he remembered Hieron or not. If he had, he didn’t react as though he did.

“We just have to think of what made  _ us _ remember,” said Ben.

Blue J frowned. “I was standing here, not remembering, and then I heard someone come in, and then I heard your voice and it was like… like…”

The pinball whizzed past the levers, the machine making a series of trilling sounds that indicated the end of their turn. Blue J turned towards him.

“I heard you voice and it was like I was back in the moment where we first met,” said Blue J, “in the snow by the storeroom, helping your mom move stuff further inside, and you turned to me and introduced yourself, like we were fancy adults-”

“And you laughed,” said Ben, “I think it was the first time all winter I’d seen you smile.”

Blue J smiled at him, tucking a curl behind their ear. “It felt like it too.”

Ben nudged their side. “And then?”

“And then I was back here,” said Blue J, “and you were holding my arm and looking at me like you knew me.”

“And I  _ did  _ know you,” said Ben, “I… I remember reaching out, to stop you falling, and I saw your face and then I could… I could see everything. I remembered everything.” He sighed. “Well, that’s no help.”

“Maybe it is though,” said Blue J slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s about, like, context,” said Blue J, “In this world, we knew our families the whole time, but maybe because we knew them the whole time it wasn’t a new thing for our brains. We didn’t know each other here, so seeing each other again made us remember, like when you see an old commercial and remember something from when you were a little kid.”

“Okay,” said Ben, “So how do we find the right context for everyone else?”

Blue J opened their mouth, then shut it again. “I don’t know.”

  
  


\--

  
  


The answer arrived in the form of Throndir.

He pulled up in a truck Blue J recognised as belonging to their father’s small freight fleet, walking into the diner and greeting Fero like an old friend. Blue J gasped and grabbed Ben’s shoulder.

“They know each other,” they whispered, “Ben-”

Ben nodded frantically. Blue J strained to hear the conversation, their feelings sinking into disappointment. Throndir and Fero knew each other, but they didn’t  _ know _ each other.

Hadrian stepped up to the counter to pay, and this time it was Ben’s turn to grab Blue J’s shoulder. Hadrian had gone still, staring at Throndir for a long moment.

“You okay?” said Throndir.

Ben and Blue J held their breath.

“Sorry,” said Hadrian, shaking his head, “I- thought I recognised you from somewhere.”

Throndir looks back at him, frowning. “Yeah, you’re- you’re not from up Auniq way, are you?”

Hadrian shook his head again. “Sorry.”

Throndir laughed. “We both just must have one of those faces I guess.”

Blue J’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m not usually up this way actually,” said Throndir, “I’m covering this other guy’s vacation shift. Only reason I knew this place was out here was from getting lost one time.”

Hadrian laughed. “Yeah, it’s kind of out of the way of everything. We’re doing kind of an emergency stop ourselves. This couple’s car broke down so we gave them a lift, and this place seemed like a pretty good stop for the night.”

Throndir nodded. “Oh yeah, it’s a nice place. And the food!”

“Best food we’ve had all trip,” said Hadrian.

Fero grinned, leaning back towards the kitchen. “You hear that?”

“Thank you!” came Emmanuel’s voice.

Fero laughed.

“Anyway, I just came in to get water for my, uh, my service dog?” said Throndir, “He’s in the truck, I ah. Some places don’t like animals inside.”

“Nah, bring him in,” said Fero, waving a hand, “as long as he doesn’t make a mess there’s no reason for him to stay out in the heat.”

Throndir grinned, coming back in a moment later with a very small dog. Ben laughed.

“This is Kodiak,” said Throndir, “He’s my service dog.”

Kodiak barked, running in a small circle around Throndir before trotting over to Blue J. He licked their hand as they bent down, barking excitedly.

“Kodiak! Sorry,” said Throndir, “he’s usually better behaved.”

“It’s okay,” said Blue J, their voice rough.

They turned back to the pinball machine, trying to keep the slope of their shoulders casual. Ben stepped closer to them, the contact steadying them.

“Kodiak remembers,” whispered Ben.

“Yeah,” managed Blue J.

“If Kodiak does, Throndir will,” said Ben.

Blue J nodded, not trusting their voice.

“He  _ will, _ Blue J,” said Ben.

  
  


\--

  
  


It had been a very ordinary day for Ephrim so far. He’d gotten up, checked some of the rooms, put on a load of towels to be washed, ate breakfast, recorded the phone messages from overnight in the little book that Adaire kept by the phone (only one, a noise complaint for the room next to that couple that Adaire had thought were fighting, so it sounded like they’d made up alright, oh man he couldn’t wait to see her face when he told her about this one) and then the delivery arrived.

Ephrim saw Red Jack head towards the truck and grabbed the hand truck from Adare’s office before he stepped out of the office to join him.

“Aren’t you on vacation?” said Ephrim.

Red Jack laughed. “Just checking in on things. I couldn’t let you do all the work!”

Ephrim laughed, stacking boxes on the hand truck and wheeling them into the store room. When he came back out the driver of the truck was there, a little dog sitting at their feet as the driver talked to Red Jack. Red Jack caught sight of him, turning towards Ephrim and the driver turned too and-

It was Throndir.

Ephrim’s knees buckled and he grips the hand truck for support. It was Throndir, standing right in front of him wearing the same ridiculous jumpsuit that Red Jack wore on his deliveries and, oh, my god, Red Jack, how could he have  _ forgotten _ , how had he not recognised-

“Hey,” said Throndir, and Ephrim wants to  _ cry _ , his voice sounded just the same, “Are you okay?”

“I’m, I- I think I’m kind of dizzy, sorry,” said Ephrim, “I’m just gonna go sit down, for a minute.”

He stumbled into the office and sat down heavily, out of sight of the parking lot. It wasn’t really a lie, he did feel dizzy, his head spinning with the memories of two lives.

The bell chimed and Ephrim looked up, surprised to see Blue J and Ben looking at him expectantly. He noted, distantly, that they were holding hands.

“Are you okay?” said Blue J, “We saw you almost fall over out there.”

“Yes,” said Ephrim faintly, “I’m fine.”

“Ephrim?” said Ben quietly, after a moment, “Do you- this is going to sound like a weird question, but do you remember?”

Ephrim inhaled sharply, looking up at the two of them. “Do you?”

Blue J nodded, letting go on Ben’s hand to pull Ephrim into a hug. Ephrim sank into the warmth of it for a moment before he leant back to look at Blue J’s face.

“I don’t- I’m so glad to see you both, but I… what does this  _ mean _ ,” said Ephrim, “How could I… I just forgot…”

Ben nodded. “It’s okay. We’re working on it.”

  
  


\--

  
  


It was strange to not see Ephrim unloading things at the truck with Adaire, and even stranger to see Red Jack in what was apparently his regular clothes.

“Varal!” said Red Jack, “This is Throndir!”

Throndir waved, looking a little awkward to be put on the spot.

“Hi,” said Hella.

“Do you, uh, do you work for the motel too?” said Throndir.

“Nah, just helping out,” said Hella, “I’m kind of friends, I guess, with the owner.”

Throndir nodded, glancing towards the office. “There was another guy out here, um, Ephrim?”

“Yeah, he works for the motel,” said Hella.

“He got dizzy and had to go sit down,” said Throndir, “Is he- I mean, he’s okay, right?”

Hella glanced back at the office. Adaire would be in there, somewhere, so she was probably handling whatever it was.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Hella.

“Hi there,” said a voice behind her, “Can I give you guys a hand at all?”

Hella froze. She knew that voice, how did she know that voice-

She turned, dropping the box she was holding. 

It was as though the view in front of her was overlaid with a thousand moments. Hadrian fighting beside her, Hadrian laying hands on wounded soldiers, Hadrian puttering around the kitchen helping Rosana, Hadrian fallen, Hadrian victorious, Hadrian, in front of her now, slack jawed and staring at her.

“ _ Hadrian _ ?”

Hadrian opened his mouth, then closed it again, stepping forward until he was close enough that she could pull him into an embrace. It felt the same as she remembered (she  _ remembered _ ), if a little less bulky without their armour in the way.

“How could I have forgotten?” said Hadrian faintly, “Hella, I’m sorry, Hella, I-”

“I forgot too,” said Hella, “I forgot too, but now I- holy shit, Adelaide, Adaire, oh my god, they’re here, I have to-”

“Go,” said Hadrian, “Go, I’ll be right here, I-”

“Hadrian?” said Rosana.

Hella looked up to see Rosana leading a small golden-haired boy out of the diner. Maelgwyn, her brain supplied.

“Rosana,” said Hadrian, “Rosana, look, it’s-”

“Hella,” breathed Rosana.

She hugged Hella with one arm, the other still holding Maelgwyn’s hand. She leaned back, looking from Hella to Hadrian.

“But, how did we- Hadrian and I met in  _ college _ ,” said Rosana, “We... I always wondered why it felt so easy to settle on Benjamin as a name.”

Hadrian laughed, wiping his eyes. “I guess there was some part of us that knew, even when we didn’t know.”

Hella smiled. “Yeah, I mean, we got here and we just had this feeling that- oh, shit, wait, I have to find Adaire.”

Rosana laughed, pressing a kiss to Hella’s cheek. “Go, go. We’re not going anywhere just yet.”

As Hella stepped away, rushing towards the office. She was dimly aware of Hadrian stepping into Rosana embrace behind her, the two of them speaking in low voices. Later, they’d catch each other up on a missing lifetime.

For now, she had to find Adaire.

She burst into the office.

“Ephrim?”

“ _ Hella _ ?”

“Holy shit-”

“-we forgot and then I just see them out there and it’s like-

“-can’t believe this whole time I knew them but I just forgot, which, wait, have you seen Adaire?”

Ephrim blinked. “She’s in the laundry room, I think. She was going to finish that and then help with the delivery.” He laughed. “Oh my god.”

Hella ran to the laundry room, skidding to a stop in front of the door. She took a deep breath, smoothing back her hair before she opened the door.

There was Adaire, folding a sheet into a precise square, the way Hella had seen her do so many times over the weeks she’d been here, only now underneath it was the thousand other things she knew about Adaire - how she liked her tea in the morning, and what she looked like going into battle and out of it, and the way she looked in the early morning light before she had really woken up.

Adaire looked up. “Hey. I’ll be there in a sec, I just want to finish folding these before they wrinkle.”

Hella walked towards her. “Adaire, this is going to sound kind of weird, but I- I remember stuff.”

“I would hope so,” said Adaire, “Otherwise that would be concerning.”

“No, I mean- Adaire-” she reached out, the confidence of a lifetime finally allowing her to take Adaire’s hands in hers. “Adaire, I  _ remember _ .”

She lifted Adaire’s hands to her lips, kissing the knuckles as carefully as Adaire had kissed her’s a lifetime and a world ago. Adaire’s eyes went wide and Hella felt her slip, catching Adaire as her knees buckled.

Adaire reached up, her hand trembling a little as she touched Hella’s cheek. “Hella? How did… I forgot you.”

“I know,” said Hella, “It’s okay, so did I-”

Adaire kissed her, a sensation that was familiar as it was missed. Hella clutched at Adaire’s shoulders, lifting her up onto one of the washing machines so their faces were level. Adaire huffed a laugh into her mouth and Hella smiled, leaning in to kiss her again.

“Wait,” said Adaire, “Wait, wait, what about Adelaide?”

Hella kissed her again. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll get some apples or a boat, or something, until she remembers.”

“Apples or a boat,” said Adaire, her huff of laughter catching in her throat as Hella nipped at her lip.

“Yeah,” said Hella, “Apples or a boat.”

  
  


\--

  
  


“Want a break?” said Red Jack.

Throndir look away from where Hella was rushing around the corner. “Uh, sure.” He paused. “Is this place always so, uh…”

Red Jack laughed. “Not at all! Must be something in summer the air.”

He followed Red Jack around the side of the motel, Kodiak trotting after them. Red Jack handed him a cigarette and Throndir took a drag.

Throndir exhaled slowly. From here, you could see where the sun was just beginning to slide behind the distant mountains, tinging the sky purple. There was something, like a taste in the back of his throat that had nothing to do with the smoke, fuzzy and indistinct.

He opened his mouth to say something to Red Jack about it, then stilled. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Red Jack standing next to him, but instead of the sunburnt red man next to him, Red Jack was  _ really _ red and enormous beside him. He could hear the long exhale of pipesmoke from Red Jack as they looked out on the mothkin at work.

Throndir’s throat ached sharply, shaking him out of his memory. He turned to look at Red Jack fully only to find Red Jack was already staring at him. 

Red Jack let the cigarette fall from his hands into the dirt, pulling Throndir to him. He was shorter than he was in Throndir’s memory but not by much, and Throndir laughed wetly into Red Jack’s shirt at the feeling.

Kodiak bounded in a circle around them, the sound of his barks very different but the tone of them just the same as it was in Throndir’s memories.

“Good thing I took to fill-in job huh?” said Throndir.

Red Jack laughed, the sound of it as booming as ever as he held Throndir tight.

  
  


\--

  
  


In the end it didn’t take anything as obscure as apples or as expensive as a boat to bring back Adelaide’s Hieron memories. She took one look at Hella and Adaire walking through the door, hand in hand, and sat heavily down on the edge of the bed.

“We remember,” said Adaire, “Do you…?”

“I…” said Adelaide, “Come here, both of you.”

Adaire sat beside her and Hella knelt at her feet, still holding tightly to Adaire’s hand. Adelaide rested her forehead on Adaire shoulder, her hand petting through Hella’s hair for a long moment.

“I remember,” said Adelaide softly, “I remember.”

  
  


\--

There was some kind commotion happening outside but Emmanuel couldn’t bring himself to care. Inside the quiet stillness of the diner, Fero and Lem were standing very close to one another in the kitchen, their hands almost touching as they helped him chop vegetables.

He thought about what Adaire had said to him a few weeks ago, about the feeling of waiting for a mysterious  _ something _ , only this particular something felt closer than it had ever been. Emmanuel took a breath and stepped forward.

“No,” said Emmanuel, “cut it like this.”

He put his hand over Fero’s on the knife, pressing down to make small, precise cute in the vegetables. Lem’s shoulder was pressed hotly against his side despite the other space available in the kitchen. He could see Fero’s eyes go to where their bodies were touching , the way he flinched at it, the way he blushed when he saw Emmanuel had caught him looking.

“Shut up,” mumbled Fero.

Lem blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No you,” said Emmanuel, “me.”

“Oh,” said Lem, “That’s a little rude, don’t you think?”

He was still pressed against Emmanue’s side. The heat was maddening.

There had been weeks of this. Weeks where Emmanuel had felt so close to tipping over into  _ something _ , although to who and about what he had no idea. He took a deep breath in, ready to step over the edge of it, but Fero beat him to it.

“Because you’re always  _ touching _ him,” said Fero.

Lem blinked, looking down to where their sides were pressed together. He looked so genuinely surprised that it almost made Emmanuel laugh, until Lem took a step backwards, his face pale.

“I- sorry, I didn’t-” stammered Lem.

Emmanuel reached out before Lem could make a run for it, catching the bottom of Lem’s t-shirt. “He didn’t say he was against it.”

“What?” said Lem.

“ _ What _ ?” said Fero.

“Am I wrong?” said Emmanuel.

Fero’s blush deepened, which was an answer in itself.

“Well, he’s just- and you’re the same! So you can’t be mad at me about this!” said Fero.

Emmanuel felt a sense of calm wash over him. This was going to work out. He was going to make this work out. He reached out, putting a hand on Fero’s shoulder, and Fero stilled.

“I’m not mad at you,” said Emmanuel, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you about this.”

Fero’s eyes flicked from Emmanuel to Lem. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” said Lem, “What’s happening?”

Emmanuel felt a rush of fondness, smiling at Lem. “I’ve finally managed to convince Fero that it is okay that we both like you.”

Lem’s eyes went wide. “Is that something that you, uh, that you were thinking about?”

“Yes,” said Emmanuel, “Is it something that  _ you’ve  _ been thinking about?”

Lem’s face flushed a deeper shade of red than Fero’s. “Well, I, that is, I mean, you’ve both been very kind to me, letting me stay here, and you’re both very- well, I mean, it’s only natural, isn’t it? And this has been very- well, it’s been one of the best times of my life, being here, and I think, maybe, it’s to do with the both of you-”

“Lem,” said Emmanuel, “May I kiss you?”

Lem’s jaw snapped shut. He nodded, quickly, stumbling over his own feet to step closer to Emmanuel.

It felt like coming home, safe, and right, and easy.

And then it  _ really _ felt like that, so much so that Emmanuel gasped, the taste of smoke and cinnamon in his mouth and teeth aching from a long winter’s cold.

He leant back, mind reeling, and Fero took it as his opportunity to lean forwards, or perhaps Lem did . Emmanuel wasn’t really in any state to notice. He  _ did  _ notice the way Fero and Lem’s eyes widened as their lips touch, Fero’s fingers twisting in the fabric of Lem’s shirt.

“ _ Oh _ ,” said Lem, “did you just… Hieron?”

“Yeah,” said Fero, “Yep, uh, what the fuck?”

Emmanuel laughed, and kissed him.

Fero blushed, looking at Lem underneath his lashes. “Uh, so about all this-”

“Wait,” said Lem, “Emmanuel is  _ my _ boyfriend-”

“Not here he’s not-” said Fero.

“I am both of your boyfriends, I think,” said Emmanuel, “Since I have known you both in two worlds and loved you for the same amount of time I’d say I have equal claim to both of you.”

“Well,” huffed Fero, “Okay, I  _ guess _ .”

“I suppose, if it will make  _ you _ happy,” said Lem, and leant in to kiss Fero again.

Fero responded with equal enthusiasm, the two of them pouring two lifetimes of unsaid words into a kiss. They broke apart, breathing heavily, and turned towards Emmanuel.

Perhaps, Emmanuel thought faintly, they should think about having  _ some _ closing hours, just until they were used to having their memories again.

After that, he didn’t think at all, carried away in the sensations.

  
  


\--

  
  


Ephrim found Throndir and Red Jack, later, stumbling around the corner with a wild look in his eyes that Throndir remembered from battle.

“Ephrim,” said Throndir, already reaching for him.

Ephrim stepped into his arms, fitting against Throndir as easily as if they had never parted. Throndir kissed him, fast and light and then slower, lingering in it, in him.

“So you do remember,” said Ephrim, grinning, as they break apart.

“It took us a minute,” said Throndir, smiling back.

Ephrim laughed, relaxing into Throndir’s embrace. Red Jack gave them a moment before he clapped Throndir on the shoulder.

“Come on then,” said Red Jack, “We have children to find!”

Throndir frowned, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit, Blue J- I saw them at the diner-”

“They remember,” said Ephrim quickly, “After I… Ben and Blue J found me, and they remember.”

They headed to the office as Red Jack left to round up the rest of his children. Blue J and Ben were right where Ephrim had left them, sitting in the cramped confines of Adaire’s office. Blue J stood as they enter, their eyes flicking from Ephrim to Throndir.

Beside them, Ben wet his lips. “Do you, uh. Do we, uh. Do we know each other?”

“Yes,” said Throndir, “Blue J, I’m sorry, in the diner, I-”

He pulled them into a hug. Blue J returned it, their face pressed into his shoulder.

“S’okay,” said Blue J, “We were the first ones.”

Ben’s reunion was much the same. Hadrian and Rosana burst into the office, pulling Ben to them the moment they came within reaching distance.

“Reincarnation, huh?” said Hadrian.

The laugh Ben gave was a little watery, but genuine.

  
  


\--

  
  


There was different music playing in the diner than the day before. Samot couldn’t place it, but he knew it. Ordinarily it would be the sort of thing that drove him nuts, but today Samothes kept shooting him looks across the table, reaching over to touch his hand on the way to take a drink or reach for the salt. It was difficult to stop smiling. Samothes seemed to be having the same problem.

Still, he did hate a mystery.

“Excuse me,” said Samot to the scruffy guy behind the counter, “what’s that music?”

“It’s Lem,” said the man, “He thinks he can play guitar.”

“I can,” said a voice from the next room.

“Could you ask him to come out here please?” said Samot, “I want to ask him a question.”

“Sure,” said the man. He turned towards the kitchen door. “HEY LEM, SAMOT WANTS TO ASK YOU A QUESTION.”

“You don’t have to yell, I can hear you perfectly well from the- oh,” said Lem, catching sight of them. “Ah. Hello. What can I...You have a question?”

“The song you were playing,” said Samot, “What’s it called? I’m sure I know it but I can’t place it.”

“You’ll have to excuse my husband,” said Samothes, smiling at Samot, “his curiosity is endless.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s some old ballad I think,” said Lem, “I was really just doing it to make sure this guitar is in tune.”

He held up the guitar and the world tilted on its axis. Samot could see Samothes grip the table, sudden and white knuckled.

It was their father’s guitar, except their father didn’t play guitar, but he did, when they were somewhere else, when they were other people but the same-

With shaking hands, Samot reached for the guitar. “May I?”

“Oh,” said Lem, shooting a look over to the counter, “I suppose.”

Samothes reached for it at the same time. His hands were shaking too.

“Samot,” said Samothes, voice cracking.

“It’s-”

“You-”

They both looked suddenly, to the bench beside Samothes where Malegwyn sat, happy and whole and alive.

Samot covered his mouth with his hand. His vision blurred and he felt Samothes reach for his hand.

“Was it you?” said Samothes, “Did you…?”

“No,” Samot managed to say. “You?”

Samothes shook his head. He looked down again at the guitar. “Where did you get this from?”

“Fero,” said Lem, pointing to the counter.

Samot made a sound half-way between a sob and laugh. The odd little halfling their father had been so fond of. “Of course.”

“You, Fero,” said Samothes, “Where did you get this guitar?”

Fero shrugged. “It came with the place when I bought it- wait.  _ Wait _ .”

Samothes stood up. “Who did you buy this diner from?”

Fero had gone very still. “Samol.” He looked up at the ceiling and lets out a laugh. “I always thought he seemed like he knew me from somewhere.”

Samothes looked back down at Samot. “Do you think he…”

“I was hurt,” said Samot, “I was hurt and he said he had some kind of plan, and then there was a dragon, and he…”

Samothes sat back down, taking Samot’s hands in his. “So he made you a second chance. He made us all a second chance.”

He kissed the back of Samot’s hand and Samot covered his mouth, his vision blurring again. He leant across the table, pressing a kiss to Samothes’s lips.

“ _ Dads _ ,” said Maelgwyn.

Samot huffed a watery laugh, breaking away and smiling at Samothes across the table. Samothes smiled back.

“This,” said Samot, “Will probably make counselling a little more complicated.”

Samothes waved a hand. “We’ll use it as an extended metaphor. You’re dramatic, people won’t know.”

Samot gasped theatrically, putting a hand on his chest and Samothes laughed, reaching for his hand again, the guitar between them.

“Can I, uh, have that back?” said Lem.

“No,” said Samot.

“It’s just that it’s not really mine, you see,” continued Lem.

“On that, we agree,” said Samot.

“Let them have it,” said Fero, “You don’t even play guitar.”

Lem turned towards the counter, moving towards Fero. “Yes I do! I was just doing it!”

“Not  _ well _ ,” said Fero.

Their bickering faded into the background of Samot’s awareness under Samothes’ smile. He slid around the booth seat until he was on Maelgwn’s other side, ruffling Maelgwyn’s hair and leaning over him to rest his head on Samothes’ shoulder. Samothes pressed a kiss to the top of Samot’s head.

“I mean it, about the counseling,” said Samot, “this doesn’t get you out of it.”

Samothes huffed a laugh. “I know, dear.” Quieter, he added. “I don’t intend to lose you again.”

Samot felt something unclench in his chest, warmth spreading through him. It took him a moment to realise the feeling was hope.

  
Outside, a truck rumbled by on the highway, sending a cloud of dirt up into the blue sky. Samot watched the dust drift downwards as he leant against Samothes and Maelgwyn. They had a trip to continue, later, and certainly a  _ lot _ of questions for Samol. But for now, breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
